A Christmas Story

I opened the pot to check on my rice. I added a little salt to it. I brought out the shredded beef sauce from the fridge and cooked my chicken in chili sauce. I turned down the heat on my corn sauce. I loved cooking but cooking tonight was extra special. My parents were going to be home for Christmas for the first time in almost as long as forever. My parents were workaholics and the type of jobs they had didn’t make it any better. My father was a pilot and he was one of the most highly recommended pilots I knew. He got paid very well but was never around much especially during holiday seasons as his work load increased during the periods. My mother was a banker or so I was told. Regular bankers I knew never knew so many miles in such short periods. My parents told me they had met on a flight and well I came into the picture and they got married.

I was an only child. My mother had said no to having other children. She loved her work and her figure and my father loved her.  I was sent to boarding schools and the house was always filled with maids who did and got whatever I asked them to. I had everything I could ask for. My parent’s way of saying “I’m sorry but I’m too busy to be there with you.”  For every time they missed a school event or a birthday, there was always a gift waiting for me at home.

Christmas every year was the same, I would go out with my friends and we each took turns to host Christmas parties every year. I always stayed over at my friends on Christmas, staying in that big empty house alone was too much pain to bear. When I got home in the morning, there would be a big gift waiting for me in my bedroom. This year I cancelled all my plans and sent all the maids home.  I was going to make Christmas dinner for my parents. I felt so happy that they were going to be here themselves and not skyping me to say merry Christmas. They were going to be here to deliver whatever gift they had bought for me. My friends knew what this meant to me and so they understood when I couldn’t host this year.

I looked at the time. It was 30 minutes after 9. Their flight was supposed to get in at 9:45. They were coming in together and they said they would call as soon as they landed. By 10 ‘o’ clock I hadn’t gotten a call, not even a single message. I set the table and went to the living room bowl of ice-cream in hand as I thought that maybe their flight was delayed. By 11, I gave up. I left the food as it was on the table. I didn’t feel like eating and the maids would clear it up tomorrow.

I walked to my room, the house echoing every step I took. The downside of walking in a big old empty house. I tucked myself in and left my laptop on. By midnight I couldn’t sleep and I tried watching a movie. My skpye alerted me to a skype call. I figured it was my parents, they were probably going to give me another excuse about how they couldn’t get away or how they’re flight was delayed or some silly excuse that wouldn’t fly with me and that there would be a gift waiting for me in the morning. You can be a world-class pilot but you still can’t get away on Christmas.

I checked and I was right it was from them. I didn’t pick up and I suddenly burst into tears. I was all alone on Christmas again. I turned off the lights as I cried myself to sleep. 


Being Single…..

I’m single. Yes, I said it. And it’s not because I’m so much in love with myself. But that’s just the way it is.  I see every day tweets and posts from people saying that being in a relationship is overrated and being single is the new relationship. Well, they say the grass looks greener on the other side. From my side I can say being single is greatly overrated.
There are moments in your life that you want to share with someone special. There are moments when you want to talk to someone because you trust them and they mean something to you, Moments when you want to be the subject of someone’s affection and attention, Moments when you just want to be held, Moments when you want to look into someone’s eyes and see they are looking back at you with the same passion. And trust me; you can’t have that when you’re single.
I’m sure at this point; you’re probably thinking “Nooo…”, “Bro before Hoes”, “Best friends over boys” or some reason to justify the reason why you’re alone. Probably because you don’t want to admit I’m right or you don’t want to admit you’re wrong. I justify myself by saying “G’s for life.” But then all your friends would probably meet girls they like and then the boys’ time becomes their time or when your best friends meet boys they are crazy about and they spend all their time with them and you end up being the third wheel. The only thing worse than not having your our relationship is being the third party in someone else’s.
Some people are just really picky about what they want. Some guys are like they want a pretty girl with that perfect body all guys talk about, but then a girl can’t have that all the things that we all desire. She could be pretty and short. Her body could be perfect but then her face might not be so. Or girls who go about saying they’re looking for Mr. Perfect. That guy that’s tall, dark and handsome. Your Mr. Perfect can’t have everything. He’s definitely going to be flawed one way or the other. I’ve learnt that either ways you can’t always get what you want; you might have to make do with what you have.
It gets worse when your family makes subtle comments about your apparent lack of a love life. They mention things they think are funny but are meant to pass a point. Openly talk about that one cousin or sister or brother’s relationship hoping you catch the drift and bring someone home. They joke about marriages and wedding bells and bring out the old photo albums of their wedding to try and prove to you that you’re making the biggest mistake you can think of. They pawn you off to that family friend’s daughter or son hoping they made the effort to correct your pathetic mistake of a love life. And when that doesn’t work and all else fails they question themselves and wonder where they went wrong in your upbringing. They wonder if they didn’t bring you up in the Godly way. And they ask you the one question that makes every parent feel like a failure, the one question that questions your sexuality. “Are you gay?”            Of course you’re not gay but try and convince parents who haven’t seen you with a girl or with anyone else for that matter.
Forgive me for being a bit old-fashioned but at this age in your life I feel that entering into a relationship is because you see a future in it. I feel you should enter into relationships because there is an end goal. And the end goal of every relationship is marriage. Yes that word that so many people see to dread nowadays. That word that spells doom. The legendary lock, key and bolt that so many people are running away from like it’s a plague.  I think it’s a beautiful thing when people marry the ones they love. *Silent Shalla to Deke and Dele*
Relationships shouldn’t be a bore or a chore. If it is then it’s probably because you are in the wrong one. Sure there are ups and downs but nothing is or can be perfect. You just have to admit you have differences and work past them. Taking breaks for yourself are worth it after a bad break-up to clear your head and refocus yourself. But the one thing I refuse to admit is that relationships are overrated. It isn’t supposed to be if you are in one with someone you love.

Where have you been?

As I sat in my KIA Rio driving back home from work, my mind raced off. It had been a stressful day at work. I had been called in out of the blues due to some emergencies. The beauty of my work was that I didn’t have to work until I was needed. Today, I was called into one of the organizations I worked for because there had been rumours of a hostile takeover and my employers needed to prevent it and hence my presence at work today. I was a private consultant and at the moment I was contracted to several well-paying companies.
I turned on the radio to the sound of Rihanna singing ‘Where have you been’, her newest single, the sound of techno beat filling the car. I un-knotted my tie as I asked myself the same question. Where have you been? I had previous girlfriends, but none of them fit the picture I had in my head of the perfect girl. I had seen my parents act with love ever since I was a child, but now my father was dead and my mother tried without success to forget him. I could see she missed him each and every day. I had wanted that since I knew what it was. I wanted the kind of happiness and love that my parents had while they were together. I wanted that kind of love that was supposed to be a myth.
My mother kept asking me when I was going to bring a woman home to her, when she would see my children – her grand-children. My sisters were all married and bearing kids. I was comfortable enough to start my own family she said. She had eventually stopped asking, I remember her saying “I wouldn’t let you kill me, when you are ready I would be here waiting”.
I took a left turn at the next intersection. My stomach grumbled. I remembered I had not eaten breakfast today because of the rushed visit to the office. I spotted a KFC outlet in the distance. I parked into one of the available spaces. I took off my jacket, tossing it into the car seat beside me and straightened my purple shirt and rolling up my sleeves showing off my muscular arms. I looked in my car mirror and thought I looked good for someone who had just clocked 32. I applied some Vaseline to my dry pink lips and brushed my hair. I stepped out of the air-conditioned car, and into the building.
I walked over to the register and ordered myself a meal, and as I turned to take a seat I saw her. She was tall, with chocolate-brown skin, the prettiest face, hair that I wanted to run my hand through and a dress that showed of her beautiful body. She looked me in the eye and I saw her beautiful eyes and I knew she was the one. She was everything I looked for in a perfect girl. Tall, but not taller than me, I liked to look down into a woman’s eyes. Being pretty, was a requirement. But it was the eyes I always looked out for. One requirement was beautiful eyes. I had a thing for beautiful eyes.
We stared into each other’s eyes for a while before I stopped the eye contact to take a seat. She went on to order her meal and sat down at the table opposite me, facing me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her face. She was the most exquisite thing I had seen.
She picked a piece of her French fries and slowly, looking me in the eyes dipped it ketchup and brought it to her mouth. Done putting the fries into her mouth, she licked her fingers in a slow, seductive way. What she was doing was working and she knew the effect she had on me. She then grabbed her bottle of Pepsi and slowly sucked the dark liquid with her straw. She was playing with the straw like a pro showing off her pretty lips and putting suggestions into my head of what I wanted to do to her once I had gotten her alone.
She smiled at me like she had no idea what she was doing. I couldn’t swallow the food in my mouth as my throat instantly felt dry. I gulped a large amount of my Pepsi to force the food down my throat. I decided to play the game she was so willing to play. I stroked my chicken with my expert hands. I dipped two of my fingers into the ketchup and brought it to my lips and sucked on it. Her eyes widened as she saw what I was doing. I dipped my fingers back into the ketchup, brought it out and stroked the chicken with it.
I didn’t care that I was in a public restaurant, I was too far gone with the little game we were playing. I noticed a ketchup smudge on my palm and I brought out my tongue to lick it off, showing her the length of my tongue and what I could do with it. She crossed and uncrossed her leg. I smiled to myself and winked at her. She laughed loudly, her voice rich and melodious. I was hooked and I wasn’t sure she was letting me off anytime soon.
I stood up abandoning what was left of my meal, and noticed the staff staring. I smiled and walked to her table. I placed both my hands on the table and looked her in the eye and asked her the first question that came to my head.
‘Where have you been?’ and with a smile she replied me.
‘I’ve been right here, waiting for you’.