The bad waiter — player’s proof by Emmanuel Enaku

The house was a beehive of activities. Music boomed from the home theatre sets as the workers roomed the room. A handful busied themselves around the television panels, fitting lighting here and there. Others held pieces of plywood while others had decorative materials on their hands. I moved about shouting orders and having conversations with the leaders of these teams, explaining what I wanted so that they don’t make mistakes. I wanted the best decorations that I could get. Money was not a problem. I was Messidinho, after all.

I expected Cindy that afternoon. She’d been off-shore for over two years. It had been a hell of a period for me without her presence, especially as the Playboy I once was but I had made up my mind to stay faithful to Cindy and had made the most of the opportunities being associated with her had afforded me. I couldn’t wait to have her return and witness my rise but most importantly, I couldn’t wait to have those mounds of flesh back in my arms! Oh yeah!

I mean, I’ve gotten so frail already because I’ve been lacking my “vitamins”. Of course, that booty contained some really important supplements. No disputes. I never could have imagined a military officer being so set like that! Gosh! Soldiers were frail, black, ugly and scarred beings — duhrr — nothing like Cindy; clean, succulent lips, charming face, fat curvy hips, tantalising waistline, sensuous legs, voluptuous breasts, sensitive arms — oh no! So, you could imagine my surprise when Cincy sent me that picture a few days ago of herself on uniform with the three stars on her shoulders. Zona pelucida!! A vice admiral.

“Vice Admiral?!”, I thought and shook my head. I was still taken aback by the image I had seen a few days ago. It would have been almost impossible to believe it but then, Cindy had pulled a couple of strings for me a few days after our meeting at the bar that night and I had begun to rub shoulders with the big boys in town. Haha!

I was happy. The room was getting ready quickly. Her flight was to have gotten mid-air and I expected Vice-Admiral Blessed Noah in a few hours. I checked my watch again, an apple watch ultra — with those scintillating red stuff — and nodded my head. The guys were making progress, I could see. Earlier, I had caught a few of the damsels that came around for the designs staring at me. One of the ladies who supervised the designs made with those material stuffs came up to explain some irrelevant stuff to me and she just couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Yeah, she was cute, light-skinned, well-treated hair, a nice deodorant and all that make-up but durhrr, these were sardines, man. I already had a shark. I simply chuckled inwardly, thinking about what I could have done to the damsel a few years ago when I still played the field. Love found Messidinho and this time, I believed in it.

My phone beeped then, it was Remi. I had been expecting this rasta’s call.

“Hey Rasta!” I yelled into the phone”. Remi laughed. “These guys you sent my way are good. Where’d you get them?”

“You gotta trust your paddy. Once I say I’ll deliver, I sure will!” So, what’s popping with you? Damn! You seem like you need to let off some smoke I could guess you haven’t sat a’ minute.”

I chuckled. He was right. I hadn’t been able to sit for a minute because I felt giddy.

“C’mon, Remi, you saying your guy man will let a woman rock his boat?”

“Spare your boasting paddy!” He said and laughed. “Cindy is worth all the discomfort. You called her?”

“Nope. Not yet. I think she’s on a flight. I should get a call from her once she lands”.

“Alright, Paddy. At the hotel now and I’ve got a few rounds to finish up here. The boss just walked in. This nigga looks grumpy. I should get off the phone now!”

“Waiter man! Hope you’ll make it here later.”

“Wouldn’t miss it even for this job, guy! Talk later”.

Damnit! I actually didn’t want the call to end. I was anxious. Remi’s call was a good distraction. I checked my time again. The decorators were rounding up now and I was pleased with the sight that met my eyes when I looked around. The “WELCOME HOME, CINDY” design was fantastic. I was sure I was going to make a good impression on the beauty queen.

The workers were done and I took my phone and did the necessary payment through bank transfer. All was set. Left with the cake but that was going to be in the next 30 minutes. The catering house had asked for two hours to do a breathtaking job. It’s been an hour and thirty minutes.

I walked to the fridge by the mini-bar and took out a chilled drink. I took a glass and poured myself some Brandy. Emptying the glass in one gulp, I went down memory lane to how it all started.

. **** **** ****

The damsel had walked in that night, completely bringing the activities in the room to a temporary stop as she approached. She was beautiful and for a moment, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Being a player, I had come across countless attractive women but this one was different. Somewhat surreal.

That ethereal being matched towards me in a flamboyant manner, the most beautiful entity I had ever set my eyes on yet.

Adorned in a set of diamond earrings and really cool Pearl necklace which refracted the light rays reaching them into the eyes of the other occupants in the party hall, the lady cut the most amazing figure.

On her chest was a most captivating bulge that drew stares but what really got to me and, probably, what accentuated her African figure 8 was the “booty”.

That booty could make a man empty his bank account and immediately disown his own mother!

It was something that could take the place of a doctor’s prescription. One round in the morning, perhaps in cat style, two in the afternoon with some crocodile style and maybe, three in the evening, probably with Kung-Fu style, yunno.

Seriously, that booty contained vitamins, Amino-acids and fatty substances. Hit that booty as often as three times a week for the duration of six months and I swear, you wouldn’t get ill the rest of the year!

As I continued my mental assessment of the damsel, she passed me by a hair’s breadth, giving me a seductive wink and then, reached for one of the six filled glasses of wine on the tray I had dropped earlier and drank carefully. She took out a silky white handkerchief and wiped the sides of her sexy and succulent-looking lips and then, she dropped the rest of the content in the glass carefully on the counter and walked away swinging her waist this way and that way as though they operated with ball bearings.

“Zona pelucida!” I said, shocked, as I spotted the car key with the Ferrari sign which she held in the fingers of her right hand and at once, I knew she was the one for me.

She turned into the VIP section of the hotel and got lost behind the red curtains. I waited a few minutes before going after her.

The room was dark and warm. It seemed most people had decided to book the VIP section for the night as all the sofas my eyes could see were occupied and then, again, were the noises. Gluttural sounds that interpreted heated passions and maddened glee filled the air in suppressed decibels as I moved towards the counter which, of course, had no one behind.

The VIP section was self-service. One was free to drink whatever one wanted to a moderate level of satisfaction and had to go arrange his drinks himself, though, a waiter was needed from time to time.

I stood for a moment as my mind raced on the best alternative to out-wit the big guys who acted as machos in this section to maintain discipline and I also needed to get my eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room, while also trying to block out the stimulating moans by the impatient inmates which had begun to get to high crescendos.

And then, I saw her. That ethereal beauty with the massive booty had made me temporarily lose my senses a while ago.

I smiled as I moved to the counter, picked up two clean glasses and got a bottle of champagne from a cooling system adjacent to the bar.

I held the glasses in my left hand and the cool bottle of expensive alcohol in my right as I approached the corner with the expensive sofa and drawn transparent curtains which the damsel occupied.

Cindy had a Shisha flask on her table as I walked in. Her eyes were dazed and I knew she had been at the tube with the stimulating gas for a while. I had dropped the bottle and glasses on the thick glass topped table and sat down with care while observing my companion.

She inhaled and exhaled a few times before finally giving me an absent-minded glance that made me lose a fraction of my spirit.

All the while, my brain worked hard arranging words that I’d use on the damsel to get her where I want her and the moment of silence was a good leverage.

“Hello, angel, I thought you’d care for some Champaign”, I had said to the pretty damsel who was still in the process of inhaling from the tube. She stopped abruptly and looked at me with a lost countenance which made me chuckle inwardly, certain that I had hit the right button with my polished accent and deep musical baritone voice.

She had accepted the drink that night and we had made small talks, getting to know each other and all that, until the machos came around and I was forced to put up a stance. An action which made me lose my job for that night and my pay too. She eventually got plastered from all the drinking and fun and I had to drive her home, a task for which I was grateful to my shabby driving skills. I had, however, overlooked the fact because it was the first time I would be driving a Ferrari. Oh yeah, baby!

Things had spiralled from there and eventually, I discovered that I had fallen so deeply for Cindy and she seemed to have fallen in love with me too…

**** **** ****

The doorbell rang then, bringing me back to the present. I checked the time and I was certain it was the cake getting delivered.

“Come in”, I said and a cute woman walked in with a big paper box which she dropped carefully on the table.

“There’s the cake, sir!” She said.

“Oh, yeah, thanks. I paid upfront. Do I still need to pay for something?”

“Oh, not at all. Thank you for your patronage”. She said and left.

I got up to check the cake. It was a nice job with some pink and purple designs. I was still checking the cake out when the doorbell rang.

I adjust my shirt and moved towards the door, expecting to see Cindy but instead, it was a mailman.

“Shit!” I screamed in his face punching the wall and then I relaxed. “I’m sorry about that”.

The perplexed man handed me an envelope and excused himself without another word.

I moved towards the mini-bar, extracting the piece of paper from the envelope. It turned out to be a letter and when I saw the sender, I began to read frantically.

“Zona pelucida!” I hissed, quite involuntarily, after assimilating the content of the letter.

It was a breakup letter from Cindy.

I took out my phone and dialled Remi’s number. The Rasta picked on the first ring.

“Paddy! Cindy already home?!”

“Listen, Man, we gotta meet. How about the park? Look, I’m back on the playing field. These chicks ain’t worth it”.

“You cool, paddy?!”

“I’ll brief you there, Remi. Come, ready to eat a lot of cakes”. I said and cut the call.

I am Messidinho — and love doesn’t exist. This is my proof.

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