A Few Ridiculous Tales

The older I become, I realised that people do more talking than acting. I’ve been a victim of saying things I probably will never do, and I still am. The devil was once an angel, and though I believe that people change, my senses deserted me this time. My instinctive trigger that deduces danger before it strikes took a break and I was blind to the wave that was coming. I considered a decision and went ahead with it, having the resolve deep within me, that nothing could change my mind once it is made.

I woke up one morning, an hour late for an interview at the villa, with a swollen face and a patch on my mind, both the aftermath of too much alcohol the previous night. I lost my job as a dog nanny three months ago, for having my lunch break before feeding Charlie, the dog. My other job as a bottle collector at Nyanya, was to satisfy my cravings for the comfort of green bottles. I began by loving how the bottles were shaped, to loving how men sought after them, until I myself was drawn to every bottle. I became trapped, as my love transcended from the love of the container, to the love for its content.

I hurried down to the villa still quite tipsy, and with no shoes on, vaguely remembering that I had pawned off my only surviving pair for another green bottle. On reaching the gate, the men in position, all clad in well tailored suits wouldn’t let me in though I tried to force my way in by all means. I had to run from them when I saw that they would tie me up like a crazy man, but I needed a job, and I was going to either get one, or get one. I made my way to the back of the building, away from the watchmen’s line of sight. As I tried to climb the fence, I was given a wake up call, all thanks to the electrified strings on top of the fence. I hit the ground before I could cross over.

I woke up again, to bright lights, so much noise, and a drenched body. A bout of slaps from strangers restored my senses and instincts, as I took to my heels and ran for dear life. It was all a dream, the swollen face, the interview with my bare feet, all of it. I had fallen asleep at the bar after drinking like a wealthy man without paying my bills, and I still had no job to wake up to the following morning.

Victor Oyedele