Today, 31 Oct.
It’s amazing sometimes how people just open up to complete strangers, they jus kinda rip their heart out and show you some of the fears and secrets they keep inside. They spill out so much personal stuffs in such a short time; you begin to wonder if the whole gig was a set up. You might even stylishly start lookin’ around for hidden cameras, you know, half expectin’ Ashton Kutcher and his Punk’d crew to jump out of from where they’ve been hidin’, watchin’ and laughin their asses off as the whole thing plays out!
Ever found yourself in a situation like that before?
Saturday, 29 Oct.
1800
After Chelsea FC was thoroughly thrashed at the Bridge by Arsenal, I hung back at the pub jus to enjoy them slightly inebriated folks trade veiled insults and banter about the game, it’s one of the reasons I love goin to the pub to watch soccer. Some things in life are best enjoyed with a rowdy crowd and soccer is number one on that list.
About thirty minutes after the game ended, some guy in a Man United polo top came through to join me and the Chelsea fan I was coolin’ wit (not a friend but not a complete stranger either, jus somebody I’ve watched soccer wit several times before). Polo man said hi to both of us, I nodded and went on watchin’ the third game of the day. The Chelsea man had become distant ever since the Chelsea-Arsenal game ended, almost like there was a death in the family; that nigga was mourning! I wasn’t really bothered by his sudden detachedness; dude could barely communicate in English anyways
Label me sadistic but I was happy, i couldn’t hide my joy at his sadness, yeah! The week before when Man. United was getting’ fucked by their city rival (Manchester City), this nigga had been very vocal, bathin’ me spittle every time he opened his mouth to poke fun at every United fans. Meanwhile, mutherfucker couldn’t buy nada for himself; his punk ass was free-loadin on beers supplied by his friend! But guess what? Karma was swift, Chelsea lost by a lone goal and nigga slipped out of the joint without notice and a week later, karma did an encore…sweet revenge for all united fans!
From the corner of my eyes, I caught the Polo man noddin’ agreeably to the cold bottle of beer in his half raised hand after taking a long swig from it. He turned and started vibing with the Mr. Chelsea in their language. I listened in, a phrase or two I know and a sprinkle of English gave the general drift of the convo. Yeah, no big surprise, they were talkin’ about the game. The urge to laugh out loud at Mr. Chelsea was king kong-ish but I held my shit together and Just like the week before, nigga quietly stole out without notice!
With the mourner gone, the Polo man turned to me and said
“My name is Newton”
“Huh?”, because of the loud music I was unable to make out the name, “did you say Newton”
“Nah, I said Newton”, he repeated himself, leanin’ closer to me and almost shoutin’.
“Oh, Newton as in Isaac Newton”
‘’yes”, he yelled.
I shrank back, tryin’ to smartly avoid the spurt of beer and the attendant breath comin’ out of his mouth. It’s either am too good or the guy was too caught up in introduction to give a fuck because he went on talkin’. In retrospect, I think he must have mistook my lil head movement for a nod
We talked or rather; he talked, when all I wanted to do was watch the Liverpool- West Brom game in peace. He set his second bottle of beer down on the table and pulled out phone to show me somethin’, I feigned concentration, narrowing my eyes at the TV like my life depended on it. He waved the phone in my face and told me to check his son out.
“Fine boy”, I said
As if that was the cue for him to open up his family history book, he told me that was his third son. “The boy is so smart”, he said, “I love him too much”
He went on to tell me that his wife was pregnant wit their fourth child. The wife’s been prayin’ for a girl child and she was hoping this one would be it. He imbibed some more beer and leaned close in a conspiratory posture; I leaned to the side, dodging his beer breath
“You know what?”
“What?” I said, gently pinching my nose wit my thumb and index finger
“Am not really prayin’ for a girl child, you know?”
“Why’s that?” I asked even though I knew the answer already
“I know what I do with girls,” chuckled my new friend. “I won’t be able bear seeing my daughter go through what I’ve put girl through”
After listenin to him talk about his conquests for another ten minute, I decided I’d had enough, time for me to pull out my usual get-out card. I pulled out my phone like it rang, put it to my ear, raised my index to him (a signal for him to give me a moment) and before walked out; I said “I pray God gives you a girl”
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