For ten  years, valentine’s morning meant breakfast in bed but today there was none. Having always celebrated Valentine’s day with Obinna the love of my life, waking up to his absence made me feel dispirited. I had cheated on Obinna with a colleague and the fallout, despite my numerous apologies was the end of our relationship. With my steady source of money gone, I had to do all I could to take care of myself, hence when the manager of the restaurant where I now work declared that the wages of anyone willing to work on valentine’s day would be doubled, I quickly accepted the offer. Given that today wasn’t a particularly joyful one for me, I was clumsy and the fact that everyone seemed to have what I had lost made me angry. But despite all my anger, I tried to focus on doing my job well, knowing fully well that with Obinna out of my life, I needed the money to make ends meet. This particular valentine’s day had it all; tears of joy, proposals, rejections, slap – yes slap, by a young lady to her lover upon gifting her a bracelet when she expected an engagement ring. The restaurant although a huge one assigned only four tables to me. Table one was seated a family of eight whose yearly tradition was to have a family dinner in celebration of their mother’s birthday, they were so happy and the celebrant’s husband spared no expense in providing them with all they wanted. They ordered exotic dishes, assorted drinks and meats, and topped it with the most expensive wine on the menu. On table two sat a young handsome man and a not so beautiful woman. When they arrived, he had introduced himself to the manager as Peter, and I overheard him saying that he intends to propose to his girlfriend of six months. Out of jealously that the young lady was about to get what my relationship of ten years couldn’t give me, I decided to ruin the engagement and have Peter all to myself. But when Peter ordered the third cheapest meal on the menu – party jollof rice and beef, with a glass of water, I began to rethink my decision. When I learnt they had arrived in a taxi, my countenance towards him changed and when I saw the ring – a cheap steel which could have easily been purchased by the roadside, my lust for him suddenly disappeared. “How can a man be so handsome and yet so cheap”, I thought. Obinna was the full package, and after experiencing the best I couldn’t think of settling for anything less. At the third table was a man, a woman, a six-year old girl, and a young boy that looked barely three years old. At first, I thought they were a family, but when the young boy addressed the woman as Aunty Ifeoma, I became perplexed as to how someone could comfortably have an extra-marital affair in the presence of a child. As I served the blueberry cake and vanilla ice-cream they had ordered for the children, the little boy asked “daddy, when will my new mummy come to live in our house”. Out of curiosity, I lingered and his response indicated that both of them had been lovers in the past, and having lost their spouses in the same month almost a year ago, the woman’s husband to a prolonged illness and the man’s wife to a fatal accident, decided to rekindle their love so that their children would experience the love of a complete family. The fourth table was a rare sight of an elderly couple who were clearly in their 80’s but were so much in love with each other, they would stare intensely into each other’s eyes, giggle softly and feed each other like teenagers. I wondered how they managed to stay so much in love after more than fifty years of marriage. Upon realization that they drove the latest Mercedes Benz in the parking lot, I walked up to the couple wished them a happy valentine’s day, and told the woman that she was lucky to be married to such a caring and rich husband. She turned a gave me the look one would give a child that says something stupid. At first, I was offended but when she told me the story of how she stood by her husband despite him beating her out of frustration when their business wasn’t faring well, my disposition changed. For ten years Obinna had provided everything I needed but just because his family’s business was shut down following a lawsuit filed against them, out of fear that Obinna would no longer be able to meet my financial demands, and not knowing that Obinna has four hundred-million-naira worth of personal asset, I had cheated. It suddenly dawned on me what my impatience has cost me. The thought of everything I could have had if I had stood by Obinna’s side made me emotional, I excused myself and hastily walked into the rest room. I was there for about fifteen minutes trying so hard to withhold my tears, when I heard a loud voice say “Queen of my heart, come and take your place” At first, I thought, who could be acting such drama again? But I soon heard the music. Oh! the music, the same one that played in the studio where I had met Obinna, but this time more melodious. At that moment I knew it was he, for no one else could play 1950’s rap music on valentine’s eve. It was our song. I quickly splashed water on my face and re-applied my make-up that was smeared by tears. As I stepped into the main room, I saw Obinna in a black tuxedo standing beside a table that contained flowers, a red velvet cake, a box of chocolate, and iPhone and a bunch of keys, which I thought at that moment to be

  Got awaken from nap by the loud and horrible alarm which my roommate bought and I was feeling so relieved, happy, and anxious considering the fact it is the world’s renonwed day for lovers, something somewhat a parody. I took a gaze at the mirror while I make scrupulous thoughts. It is just my fourteenth day of work at the luxurious Pepperoni Eatery, hopefully the Manager will quest for absolute orderliness from all staffs. He is a fierce bull dog; The metaphor I used for him is even an understatement. I barely see him laugh  eversince I started working in his establishment. However, I don’t give a hoot as far as I am surreptitiously discharging my duties and as well having fun when possible regardless of his extreme hostility which has lately turned majority of my colleagues into cowards. Their hearts get off whenever the man is around. Possibly, today is not an exception, they will eventually have to become perfect attendants else they will have to accept their day being ruined by the dramatic outburst which the Manager will show up. However, myself on the otherhand, I try as much as possible to keep boundaries just to save myself from being publicly casted by the Manager. I zoomed up, getting myself dressed, and countlessly asking my neighbors of my look as I stepped out to lock my apartment. You know, I couldn’t be too confident, so I just had to ask the people to affirm that my Manager would not frown at me for my appearance. I got to the eatery in just some minutes; It was a nineteen minutes drive down from my bus stop. Everywhere looked so glamouring as quests were already making their way in. My colleagues and I got notified that a staff should join the others at the VIP hall to ensure prompt attendance to guests. Fears gripped my colleague as they murmured bitterly and it really showed on their downcasted sad-look faces which seemed like people who are more or less about to be sacked. They thought as much who will go to the VIP hall; Everyone is not fascinated by the idea of serving at the VIP hall because the Manager monitors explicitly just to detect mistakes from staffs. From this laskadiscal behavior my colleagues showed up in regards to the call to the VIP hall, I had to pick it up on myself to join the staffs at the hall. It was the peak moments of the evening. The hall was filled with outstanding personalities just as it should be in an eatery of that sort. We were busy serving guests as nothing brought an hiatus to that. One could hardly detect any blemish on the skins of the guests as they were extremely glowing coupled with the shades of the dimed florescent lights which made me imagined taking a seat as well but that was realistically impossible for a waiter. It just flipped through my memory as a wish if I could have a date there because the place was stunning. I was not expecting any miracle of sitting on the VIP hall as a guest to eat on that evening but I really wanted to if it would not cause me a sack letter. I turned back from the table I finished serving and overheard my Manager receiving a call from his daughter who just came in from the United States unannounced just to surprise the parents. She exclaimed from the phone that she wanted to give the parents the most adoring valentine gift by bringing herself for a visit. While still on the call, the young adorable daughter walked in surprisingly. The manager and his wife were exceedingly glad to meet their daughter after two years of leaving for studies. After a lot of hugs and a kind of reunion gestures to the daughter, the manager had to return to the table where his politicians friends were. The wife was quite exaggerated by the feeling of having her only daughter around. She felt so special and was ordering me around. As a quest to be snappy and satisfying to her, I mistakenly flipped of her daughter’s phone from the table as I was taking off the serving tray. That moment, I felt like disappearing but I was a little bit relaxed to handle the situation because the wife is quite approachable unlike the manager. “Christian, can you afford this phone which you tampered to destroy by your stupidity. How many of your family members can afford an apple iPhone 7 brand, not even the precious iPhone 12 pro max and here you are falling one.” Those were the aggressive words of my manager’s wife to me as I stood speechlessly waiting for her to drop so that I will apologise. She was deriving pleasure in insulting and describing the poor state of my family. But, definitely, it was preferable to me, that little mistake would have warranted multiple hot slaps if it was the manager. I was feeling lucky inwardly but on my facial gesture, I was really embarrassed. The furried sanguine temperament woman was satisfied of shouting at me. It was now my turn to show morals by fixing the mess with my hurried shameful face as I quickly apologized to her and the daughter. I offered to pick the phone for the daughter and as she was about taking the phone from me, I saw a childhood dark scar on her fingers. She stared at me for long as I did same. She saw the deary cut I had on my neck while I bent to pick the phone. We could not stop the long glance and her mother was looking so confused but she barely recognized what happened. The guests on the other table close-by all turned to our little drama. The short moment sparked our memories so far that we retrospect on our high school days, how we were seatmates, and still

It was the day of love — Valentine’s Day. It was business as usual for me at Johnson Restaurant, where I work as a waiter. Johnson Restaurant was situated on the outskirts of Ibadan, one of the largest cities in Africa. Apart from its catering services, Johnson Restaurant boasts of entertainment services with the presence of a Swimming pool and a viewing center where people watch various sports including Football, Basketball and Tennis. We were in our work uniforms- the white long sleeve shirts, a black jacket worn above black trousers and well polished black shoes. It was going to be a long day. As we expected, people started flocking in their numbers. There were couples coming for the first time. Couples, families that may not come again in a long time were seen making their way to the restaurant. It was Valentine’s day? Wasn’t it? “Waiter” a man called, “Menu please”. I handed the menu to him. He looked like a man in his early thirties or late twenties. He sat at a table with three young ladies. The three ladies were dressed in stylish outfits that revealed the upper part of their bosoms. He looked sternly at the menu and took a sneak peek at the three ladies seated, frowning. “Hmm, give me a scoop of Ice Cream and a bottle of water”, he said, before passing the menu to one of the ladies. He looked worried, like someone about to go into surgery. One of the ladies took a look at the menu, smiling; “As for me, I want Jollof Rice, Salad and Fried Chicken. Also, add a bottle of 5 alive juice, chilled one”, she said, stylishly raising a hand that revealed her coloured fingernails. She passed the menu to the other ladies seated beside her. “Get me Fried Rice, Roasted Chicken, Fried Plantain and a bottle of Mountain juice. Ensure it’s chilled”. “Yes, ma”. “And you madam? What would you like to eat?” I asked the third lady before she was handed the menu. “Waiter…” I took a look at the young man at the table. He was nervous, with a bit of anger fuelling up inside him. Maybe the order was taking too long. “Waiter…”, shouted the third lady, bringing me back from deep thoughts. “Yes, ma”. “Did you hear what I just said?”. “Sorry ma’am. Can you please come again with your order”. She looked at me, this time with a hard look, rolling her eyeballs multiple times at my shoes straight up to my hair. “I said you should get me White Rice with Vegetable Oil stew, Fried Chicken, Plantain and Salad. Also, add a bottle of cold water and a bottle of Chilled Vanilla drink.” “Alright, I will be back soon with all your orders”. I got back after a while with the orders. While I was serving, one of the ladies seated held the young man’s hand saying, “Honey, you got the wrong plate”. “Wow, are they lovers?”, I thought. “Who could the other ladies be?” Well, they could be family. In the Johnson Restaurant, payment of meals comes after eating. The bill is brought to the table and the payment is at the counter, a spot closer to the exit door. The young man felt left out while the three ladies were laughing, gisting and eating. The ladies had no idea what trouble they were going to be in. They had no clue. The young man made his way to the counter, swiftly. He was out of the restaurant while the ladies were seated, eating the meals they ordered. It wasn’t long after they finished their meals, they discovered the man was not in the restaurant. They looked around with anxiety. Reality had dawned on them- they were stuck in the Restaurant. One of the ladies picked up a phone to make a call. I was watching inquisitively to see how things will pan out for the ladies. “Waiter…” “Oh Yes”, I answered as I walked quickly to the table where I heard the call. It was a young couple. “Good afternoon. Welcome to Johnson Restaurant” I said, smiling as I passed the menu to the man. “Don’t bother. We just need two bottles of Mountain juice”. “Alright, chilled or warm?” “Make it chilled”, he said, grinning. Serving two bottles of drinks with glass cups was never a tough task. You just need to be calm as you carry the tray with your palm slightly raised below your shoulder level before arranging the bottles and cups on the table. Shortly after, some police men were in the restaurant. They were directed to the Manager’s box which was upstairs. “So strange”, I thought. I took a look at the table where the man and three ladies were seated. The plates were empty and the ladies were not there. Shortly after, the ladies were escorted by the police men to the Police van that was outside the restaurant. Whenever something like that happens, it’s either a theft case or inability of customers to pay for the services they ordered for. I went to the counter with the aim of knowing what had just happened. I got to know that the man paid for his bottle water and Ice cream before leaving the ladies in the Restaurant. Someone added that the man was angered by the decision of his partner to bring her friends along on Valentine’s day. “Ladies should be considerate. Valentine’s Day should be between you and your lover and it should stay that way”, one of the waiters said. “He was probably angry she brought her friends without his permission” he added. “There is nothing wrong with paying for their meal”, a waitress replied. “There’s nothing wrong. When you are having your Honeymoon, take your friends with you. Idiot”, the waiter answered sarcastically. “Do you know how much he must have planned for the outing? For him to abandon her, it’s either he didn’t have enough money or the lady

“Passion is energy. Feel the power that comes from focusing on what excites you”. Those words of Oprah Winfrey have stuck with me for some time. I have always had the passion for interacting with people which gave birth to my dream of being a journalist, but that goal was hit a devastating blow when dad passed away, so I had to take a job at 20 to keep up with life and save up for tertiary education. I had worked with some catering services on several occasions and had served at events, this had helped me to build albeit unknowingly, skills such as resilience, patience, food safety, active listening and effective communication. Serving at an average Nigerian wedding can be challenging with guests both invited and those who invited themselves wanting to get served first. “Hey server, semo and ewedu here please. Uhmmm… No, just bring jollof rice and a little fried rice by its side”. “You have passed me five times to serve the other table without giving me anything, not even a bottle of soft drink”. “Na wa oo, these servers will think that someone came here to beg for food, ordinary serving that they are serving, they will now be feeling like a deity”. “You just put semo  in front of me and no soup, do you want me to eat ordinary semo, in fact come and carry your food, I am not eating again”. These were some of the barrage of complaints and insults I got at some events. “Don’t worry, you would soon be served”. “I’m sorry, the guys in charge of drinks will soon serve you”. “”Be rest assured that your food is on its way”. All these I managed to say most times with a smile on my face. I loved the job. I felt more excited when I got the job as a waiter at CMO Restaurant in mid January. It meant more pay which would make it easier to save up for my education. Every night when I come back from work, I would sit outside with my next door neighbour Chike, a lanky dude in his mid 20’s. We would talk about almost every topic ranging from football to politics, and of course he would always bring u on issues about women. “Oh boy, tomorrow is Valentine o” Chike said excitedly. “You’re right man”, I replied while eating the corn and ube I had bought from Mama Nkechi the corn seller. I had always wondered why most corn sellers display their wares near gutters, who knows maybe it adds to the flavour too. “And I don’t even know what to get for Jane tomorrow, I am a bit confused” he continued. “Well, what did you get for her last year?” I asked “A silver necklace” was his response. “Did she get something for you too?” I quizzed. At this point he started to laugh. I started to wonder if my question was funny. “Well,  every year, she buys boxers and singlets for me. It’s as if I was an Atilogwu dancer in a cultural troupe” he said, still laughing. I couldn’t help but roar with laughter at that statement. “That means you should be expecting another parcel of singlets and boxers again tomorrow”. I teased. “Wetin man go do nah? My problem now is what to get for her tomorrow. What do you suggest?” He asked. “Well, I don’t know, maybe when you sleep at night, the thought of what to get for her might come” I replied. “Mtcheeew. Thanks for not helping. Ehen, what about you?” He asked. “Me? What about me?” I was puzzled by his question. “Taah! Stop pretending. Don’t you have anybody who will be your val tomorrow?” He asked. “Which kind val?” I replied. It was already late and I had finished my corn and was thirsty. “Abeg, I wan enter inside go drink water and sleep, tomorrow would be a busy day for me at work because of lovers of you” I said. We both laughed, exchanged pleasantries and went into our different rooms. Morning came rather quickly, it was a Saturday and the sky was clear and fine as I made my way to work. I could see the young boys in the street arranging the field of the primary school nearby for the planned ‘Valentine Bash’ to be held that evening. DJ Skendu who was scheduled to play that evening as written in the flyers and banners they had posted all around had already brought some speakers and it was beyond doubt that as usual no one would have a sound sleep that night as a result of the party. I arrived work early that morning which was already a norm and quickly set in for the days activities, only a few customers came during the day but began trooping in towards the evening. Red and white was the colour of most guests while a few put on black or navy blue. At about 6:45pm, a man came in with a lady, she was exqusite and elegantly dressed. Ejiro, my colleague then informed me that he had been at our restaurant and had drank a particular wine. So, when I went over to his table to get his orders, I politely asked if he would like the wine he had the day before. At hearing that, the woman became visibly angry, they were actually on their first date and he had told her that he hadn’t been here in a really long time, but it was obvious that he had been here with another woman a few days ago. I was embarrassed about the situation even though her anger was directed to the man and not me. I however heaved a sigh of relief when the woman became  calm after much pleading from the man. When the man asked her to make her order, she immediately ordered for a red wine that costs #50,000 for one bottle. I quickly concluded

Valentine’s Day, and I knew work would only become even more wearisome. It was always so during the festive season. I could still remember clearly how I had almost collapsed in between the rigors of my work during the last Christmas and New Year celebrations. People teemed at the mouth of the beanery as if Pap’s Place was the only place to have a good meal. I could remember having severe cramps in my thighs after work on Boxing Day. I had waited myself to a severe fever and by the end of the month, Mr. Dom, the restaurateur of Pap’s Place handed me a packet of fifteen thousand for all my dedication. Albeit, I had reasons to like my job as a waiter in Pap’s Place about as much as I hated it. For one, I waited by the table of dignitaries on a daily basis. Once, I had a lengthy chat with the Personal Assistant to the Governor which had nothing to do with taking his orders. Secondly, I gained the masteries of virtues like sufferance, tolerance, subservience. And that was why when I walked through the booths to get to the table of an elderly man who had gestured at me to come, I wore the deepest of smiles on my face even though there was a roiling of impotent rage in my bones. I was livid because this was my lunchtime, and I was just about to make my escape through the backdoor when I heard the call. Instinct-in, I knew the call had been for me. I told the supervisor to send any of the other six waiters who were on duty to the table of the man who had to be attended to, but the supervisor told me that the man had called particularly for me. So, walking to him, I hid my provocation behind those smiles, but I was nonplussed when the elderly man smiled back at me, showing a set of uneven, yellowed teeth. He had on a traditional red cap which had a pointy pap on its center, a grey T-shirt, black strides, and gleaming brogues for shoes. Unlike His Excellency’s PA, there was nothing upper-class about this elderly man. With my lips cocked into a smile still, I asked: “Good afternoon, sir. May I take your order, sir?” “Happy Valentine’s. How are you?” The man asked. There was a gruffness in his voice that could only have come from age. My guess was that he was sixty-eight. “I am fine, sir.” “I would like the paste and okro soup,” the man told me. I made a note and made for the kitchen, but I could feel his eyes following me. A couple of minutes later, I returned with a tray which had his order. I placed it carefully on the table, and flashed him a smile. I was so sure that it was going to be the last smile of mine he would see for the day. I made a mental note to get away as soon as he began tucking away his food. “You are smart,” the man reckoned as he uncovered the dishes. “That was why I asked specifically for you. I watched you for over ten minutes as you attended to these customers and I could see the grace and wisdom with which you walked.” “You flatter me, sir,” I said, feeling enthralled by his compliments. “I am not that smart, sir. If I was, I wouldn’t be here. I would be in the University like my friends.” The man muffled a laugh. He searched me with his eyes as he washed his hands in the bowl. “Well, that is the problem with you young people. Wisdom is not knowledge. Smartness is not intelligence. You could know book, and still not know and understand life.” I nodded in agreement. “Sit,” he said, gesturing. I shot a look at the counter, at our supervisor, who had been staring at me. She shrugged, so I took the bench opposite the one the elderly man sat. “You are smart. A smart man will know his kind when he sees one,” the man said, and I laughed. “You are absolutely right, sir,” I conceded. “You are very smart.” The man began snatching dollops of cassava paste from the mound, dipping into the soup bowl, and dumping into his mouth. I watched him, and even though I wanted to get angry at why he had decided to keep me waiting on him as he ate, I couldn’t find the potency to get offended. “But, why have you been failing the exams for University? Do you have a girlfriend?” He asked between mouthfuls of food. “No sir,” I denied sharply. “You young people,” he began to say, licking his fingers one after another. I couldn’t imagine why the man felt no shame as he did that. People who came by to eat paste and soup made use of forks and spoons, but here, this man was, doing it the uncultured way. “Everything is love for you guys these days.” “No sir. Love is not my priority,” I returned. “It should be. Spread love wherever you go. Seek love in all the right places, and maybe you will find it.” “But sir, you were complaining just now that love is all what is in today’s young minds, so why are you advising me to seek it?” I asked. “Oh, I meant lust. That is what is in your minds. Visions of indescribable ecstasies, depths of the most tangible of euphoria, rapture bursting open in her belly. That is all you young guys want. No pain at all and every bit of gain you can come across.” “Sir, don’t lovers dream and have visions too?” I asked. “Of course, they do! Lovers are the best dreamers and visionaries, and for love, they push to make the world a better place.” The man took a pick and began chasing holes in his teeth. “The world

  The atmosphere was red and white. Balloons here, stringed shimmers there. The seats wore red garments with a white belt and the table as brilliant as any white fabric could ever be. From the kitchen counter, I caught Matthew with the sham smile he was instructed to put on whenever he was opening the glass door for customers. The only thing that had a tint of Valentine on his light brown uniform was the white edge of his blue nose mask. “Welcome to G-Prestige Restaurant.” I was wearied by his monotonous reception. Well, that was his job anyway, I’ve got mine to be burdened with. I don’t really like white long sleeves but my job as a waiter in the restaurant upheld it. I preferred darker outfits to white because I loved to play and get dirty but this was my workplace, not my hostel. Nothing was interesting about this Valentine day, so I thought. Maybe it was because I didn’t have the money and courage to officially let Shola know how much I feel about her. Or maybe I had not eaten since the afternoon of yesterday. And wouldn’t until this afternoon. I heard the song, “Wise men say… Only fools fall in… But I can’t help falling in love with you… play in the background.” I watched couples walk in, most of the men’s hands rested either on the waist or on the shoulder of their woman. I imagined myself in their shoes bringing my babe to the restaurant and spending money the way I would spend a large amount of remnant data from 11 pm when it would be due for expiration by midnight. I carried my tray well balanced on my cupped fingertips. And went to a table. “What would you like to eat sir?” His face was still hidden in the menu. He whispered some things in the Yoruba language to his woman and they both gave a brief giggle. “Bring us a bottle of champagne and some potato salad.” The man in the red suit replied. “Sweetheart, ” he turned slowly to the Lady beside him, “would you like your regular chicken and chips?” The woman looked down to the table, thoughtfully, for a second tapping her chin with her index finger. “Let me eat something different today. I’d like to try that fried bacon in coleslaw…” she looked up to see if I was listening, “…with extra cream please.” “Okay.” I smiled “Do you want anything else? An appetiser?” “No thank you. This is all I want actually. Right, honey?” “Anything for you my missing rib…” his lips glued to hers for a moment. At that point, I thought of Shola, and how I met her at our faculty library. How I offered to teach her lipid metabolism in biochemistry just to be close to her. I thought of how shy I was to ask her for her WhatsApp number. I thought of Shola and me as “us” and I mentally replaced the couple on the table with us. “I… I… I’ll just go get the… Erm… Your bill. Sorry… Your orders.” I stuttered. They giggled again. I heard them from behind as I walked away. As I went to the kitchen to state the orders, I saw, over the short counter, what I thought was only imaginable. At the glass door stood Shola. She was a Lion Queen. A Majesty in a short crimson gown. Her curved hips shot out alarmingly from her slender self. Hanging from her left arm was a diamond-stoned white bag which matched the colour of her wedge heels. Her make up were so good I could lick it if it wasn’t on her face. In my mind, or my heart more appropriately, I heard angelic voices sing Amazing Grace, how sweet thou art, overshadowing the main music playing in the background. Shola’s eyes darted around. Her lips widely spread in pleasure and her dark pink blush marks on her chocolate coloured skin was nearly visible. She was as visible and as real as my thumbs. And she was alone. For one thing, I couldn’t leave the kitchen counter until all my orders were set on my tray; I did not also want to attract undesirable attention from people by shouting her name or waving an arm. I just tried to lock contacted with her using my eyes. And the very moment I finally did, her phone stole her attention from me. She slapped her phone to her ears, smiled, said somethings and turned towards the glass door — I was wrong; she was not alone. I knew Lanre too. He was not even in the same faculty as Shola. How could he have been her val? I watched him come in and threw a hug at her and I watched her reciprocate it. The hug seemed longer and tighter than normal in my sight. The duo walked to an empty table. He pulled out a seat for her to sit. Shola’s lips widened, parted and was finally pursed as she said: “thank you”. My faced become the colour of her dress. Who was this goddamned guy playing romantic African with my crush? “Oga! Carry your tray go serve customer na!” A fellow waiter shouted bringing my attention back. I picked my tray, balanced it on my fingertips and headed towards the couple I was attending to earlier. My mind and eyes still on Shola and that “intruder” who sat opposite her on the same round table. My face and my hands were 90° apart. And my new north was at Shola. I dropped my order at the table before me without looking. There was murmuring on the table where I dropped the food, but I didn’t care to know; I just couldn’t stop looking at her. I watched helplessly as Lanre fiddling with her hair and trying to shoot his lips towards her bare neck. Shola looked up and our eyes jammed again. She gave