STUCK

Thursday

8 March

Johannesburg, SA

The Truck Driver

13:04

The man reached for his extremely loud Nokla phone and said a gruffly hello into it.

Did I mean to write Nokia phone?

Nope! I meant Nokla.

I knew it was a Nokla cause for one, the sound comin’ outta that lil devil could wake a corpse who’s been coolin’ in the grave for a thousand years. Oh, y’all wanna pretend like y’all don’t know a Chinese phone when you hear one, huh?

“Hello!” he half yelled into his Nokla.

Nigga wasn’t about to be kind to anybody for wakin’ his ass up from a hard earned sleep and that is even more so if the caller is reluctant to speak. Why can’t folks understand that in his lline of duty, sleep is hard to come by, huh? He’d driven his Mack truck across three international borders to earn this fuckin’ sleep and he didn’t appreciate anybody buttin’ in on that snooze time.

“Hell ooo!”

Now becomin’ increasingly impatient with the dumb caller who’d cut into his temporary death only keep mute, he drew the phone away from his ear, starred at it as if to look into the face of whoever it was. For a second, he racked his brain for who would ring his phone up and refuse to speak. He came to the conclusion that only ghosts and exes would likely do dumb shit like that this. But then again, aren’t exes are a type of ghost?

Jus’ as he’d made up his mind to press the red button and put an end to the lil ghost caller drama, he heard the caller call his name and for the next five minute, he listened impatiently as the person on the end frantically spoke.

 Any casual observer tryna readin’ the body language and facial expression of this international truck driver would only see a man who was mildly pissed, but them professional profilers would tell you there was somethin’ more, they’d tell you some kinda dark amusement seemed to be growin’ on the man’s face with every passin’ minutes he spent listenin’ on that phone.

Friday

9 March

Lusaka, Zambia

11:45

Good afternoon and welcome to the mid day news, my name is blah blah and here are the headlines

As the newscaster reeled on, the five guys (three men and two ladies) who’d gather round the TV as soon as the shopkeeper told them it was news time started talkin’ excitedly about the strange event they’d heard happened the day before. They were hopin’ to see if the TV station would show some visuals to dispel their doubts.

The Taxi Man

12:05

Though disappointed that the newscaster said nothin’ bout the incident, they carried on talkin’ bout it anyways.

Some guy with a Pro-Specs back pack hangin’ on his back said, “You know, I’ve heard some stuffs like that before but nah, I don’t believe that shit. I need to see it to believe it”

“Believe it” the man standin’ on the other side of the counter said with conviction in his eyes, ‘’I saw the whole incident with my own two eyes‘’ he continued after washin’ down a mouthful of biscuit with a bottle of coke.

“Wow! Are you serious? The back pack man enthused tryna squeeze out some more gist out of the taxi man. Y’all know what they say bout taxi men, bar men and maids, right? No! Anywhere you go, this three set of people are your best source of info, and they always get their fingers on the juicy goings on in the city.

“Yes, my friend. I live just two hundred meters away from where it happened, I saw it” the taxi man said.

Thursday

8 March

Lilai

At Some Guest House

13:04

The visibly shaken guest house manager talked on the phone as he paced the length and breadth of room 102 like a teenage father who’d jus witnessed the birth of his daughter, if the distance covered in those lil back and forth were to be stretched out, nigga would have been half way to the moon! Ok, maybe that’s stretchin’ it but y’all got gist, right?

“Ah! Sunday is too far boss” he swiped a bead of sweat off the side of his face the back of his free hand, “I understand that you cannot leave your truck but we will pay for your flight and whatever expenses you may incur if you can make it here today, sir”

The manager had gotten the truck driver’s SA number from the tucker’s own wife as soon he was alerted to the situation in room 102. But how is that possible, you ask? Well, the trucker’s wife was the “situation’ in room 102!

A Tryst Gone Wrong

The trucker’s wife has got a lil some some on the side, whenever the husby goes on the road, the wife goes on the town feedin’ that pussy to her equally married lover at whatever guest house they choose to get their dirt on but on this fateful day, luck ran out of that ass.

Thursday was a public holiday (International Women’s Day), the trucker man was out in SA hustlin’ for the proverbial bacon and what was the wife up to?

Thursday

12:28

Earlier, the woman and her boy friend had snuck into the guest house separately, naturally the punk ass pussy thief had been there first to pay for the room and get shit ready before the woman’s arrival. When shit was set, he put a call through to her to show up. Shawtie came through, they drank and they fucked.

They drank and fucked, sounds simple, huh? A clean job, bi’ness as usual and nobody’s the wiser, right? Wrong!

Did they get caught? Nope, it was somethin’ more bizarre.

Friday

12:10

The taxi man threw the last crumb of biscuit in his mouth, drained the last of the dark liquid from the deposable coke bottle as we all wait for him to confirm what we already knew.

“I saw the man and the woman wrapped together in a chitenge (a wrapper) as they got into the car that took them to the hospital” he said

Outro

Oh, I haven’t told you what happened yet? Ok, here it is…the trucker’s wife and her lover got stuck! Dick and pussy wouldn't separate...now that’s what I call a fuck to remember!

Apparently, the husband had suspected the wife was kickin’ game on the side so he hooked that pussy wit a deadly voodoo called Magun (unbeknownst to the wife, of course). Magun in Yoruba (a Nigerian language) means don’t climb…well, I guess Mr. Lover boy must not have gotten the memo.

Sunday

11 March

Ok, earlier I said if you want the dirtiest gossip in any city you should make any of these folks (taxi men, barmen and housemaid) your friend…umm, you might wanna add one more to that list, hairdressers/stylists.

Accodin’ to a salon gist today, Mr. Lover Lover died in the hospital!

True Story