THREE SWEETEST WORDS

Tuesday
March 20
12:38

Standin’ outside the tent where I was told to stew for ten minutes.

Stew?

Yep, that’s what it is when waitin’ becomes achingly unbearable. Stewin’ is knowin’ the clock is bout to run out on your favorite club in a championship final while you stand there wit blood rushin’ to your head and adrenalin’ floodin out your mutherfuckin’ vein.

A minute into the stewin’, my head began to pound as if Staff Sergeant Robert Bales (the US soldier who is suspected to have gone on a house to house killin’ spree in Afghanistan ‘bout three weeks ago) had gone berserk in there (my head). For a second or two, I squeezed my eyes tight; tryna rid myself of the wailings that had rented my medulla oblongata. My mind spurn into a free fall and wouldn’t stop weaving up all kinds of Armageddon-ish scenarios (the type them fire-and-brimstone preachers’ been warnin’ pig headed sinners like me about). I tried getting’ my thoughts on a positive track but I failed spectacularly. The ten minute wait was drivin’ nuts.

“These things happen, you know?” the man standing next to me said trying to calm me down. I nodded my head.

Despite the calm front the man was puttin’ up, nigga was sweatin’ bullets. I sneaked a look at his hands and guess what? They fuckin’ wouldn’t stop shakin’! I looked away and smiled to myself.

Earlier
12:25

While I contemplated the pros and cons of what I was about to get my ass into, I amused myself by watchin’ a bleached out middle aged woman (the skin on her face and hands looked like the flag of South Africa…a collage of colors) who was drinkin’ some kinda yoghurt wit a straw. She was oblivious to my gawkin’ as she sucked on the straw wit the resolve of a seasoned blow job veteran!

After about five minutes of bouncin’ the idea around in my skull, I decided ‘’what the fuck, am gon do this shit. Lo que sera, fuckin’ sera’’

So, I threw my brandless shades on my face and walked the short fifty meters to the tent where a group of women chattin’ outside. Truth is, those few meters walk felt like a fuckin’ thousand miles journey to the end of the earth!

 Have I been to the end of the earth before?

Umm, nope but am so freakin’ sure an Armageddon trek would be like that if ever there was one.  After havin’ a one on one wit one of the ladies outside the tent, I was told to go inside.

12:32

I poked my head into the tent, still not hundred percent sure if I was ready to go all the way wit my decision to be there but jus as my brain and legs were comin’ into some kind of agreement about throwin’ up the deuces to the whole thing, the encouragin’ smile of one the two ladies in the tent pulled me in.

“You’re welcome, sir” said the lady in the red top. “Please, take a seat”

As soon as I sat my ass down myself down, she took my left hand in her right, massaged it gently, placed it on her lap and went to work.

12:53

“Sir!” one of the two ladies in the tent called out. I looked at my fellow anxiety-ridden “waiter” unsure of which of the Sirs the lady wanted.

“Form number 33” she added as if she read our thoughts

I dragged my ass in the tent as if both my legs were tied to huge balls and chains. Lady number two motioned me to her side, told me to sit myself down while she filled a form. The red topped lady who’d attended to me earlier left the tent. I held my breath as if a deadly plague was in the air. After what seemed like a lifetime in Satan’s crib, the lady got done wit the forms.

“How are you, sir” she greeted

“Am fine” I croaked my reply. My voice sounded like it belonged to an alien frog. I was fuckin’ unwell and the lady knew it. Nope, I was not dyin’ but anxiety was makin’ my blood boil. I was sweating like I stole some’

“Do you use condom” she asked

Though I wanted joke like, “nah, am a virgin’’ but the occasion couldn’t get the Kevin Hart in me to rise the fuck up, so I said “Yeah, but not all the time” instead.

“Well, you should be usin’ condom at all times” she continued in a perfunctory note. “Don’t you know you put yourself at risk every time you go in live?” I almost smile at the way she said that.

“I know” I said, strainin’ my neck tryna see what she got written on form number 33.

She went on to hit me over the head wit a lesson about faithfulness, abstinence and the importance of strappin’ that dick up every time I wanna get some pussy.

In my head, I was screamin’ “jus show me the fuckin result and end my misery already, you bitch ass lady”

Four minutes later, the lady had gone into overdrive wit her little sermon.

Fuck! I couldn’t contain myself anymore so I cut to the chase, “Madam, please what’s my result?”

She took a deep breath, looked at form number thirty three again and said “You’re negative”

And those three little word right there were the sweetest words I’d ever heard!