Laughstacy
We enter the canteen. I'm seething with rage.
"Can't some people just mind their own business?" i fume inwardly..
She's still wearing her rehearsed barbie smiles. We find a seat in an unpeopled corner. The waiter brings us a menu and she orders heaven and earth. I look at her. Somehow, in my rage, she now resembles the painting of a bad artist, who loves too many colours and wants to include them all in his work. Her eyelids wore bright purple and green, her long lashes, black and curving towards the sky, her chin, a bright orangish yellow colour, dusted with a bright red at the cheek. Her lips sported a coat of baby pink lipstick and her hair, which she'd dyed blonde, completed the look on her oblong face - the look of an overdecorated clown.
"Jesus!" I breathed to myself. "Where my eye been dey all this while, wey I carry this girl follow body".
She's still "hello-ing" and "hi-ing" every male that throws a smile her way - even though some were not meant for her. Those ones created my only memorable moments of that day, as the awkwardness of it all had me reeling in laughter. She'd almost forgotten my presence, glorying in her fawns and sycophants, so it was completely safe for me to "laugh my laughs" - uninhibited. I watched the first time, as a handsome, beardy, tall fellow called in a husky voice, "Anita!", and waved a fine long hand in her direction. She'd been following him with her eyes ever since he entered the canteen and almost drowned in her flush.
"Hey!" she thundered from the lonely corner.
Eyes turned our direction. She didn't mind them, well, apparently, handsome guy didn't too. The next part of the whole drama was what threatened to have my tummy burst in laughstacy: Handsome guy had stretched wide open, his 2 metre long arms, and Anita, without mind, got up briskly from her seat, trotting towards the awaiting hug, almost knocking over the glasses of beer on the table. You can imagine my gratitude when, after saving the glasses, I was still in time to watch the main event. Yards away from his arms, with hers gradually spreading for the love-lock, some other girl gradually sweeps into his arms and they embrace warmly - in fact, to me, very very warmly. She turns around to see the very eye she'd so skillfully drawn to her theatre, erupting in fits of unrestrained laughter and her shoulders start quaking in tears... As you can already guess, my laughter was loudest. I guffawed and cachinnated long into the air, such that, my laughter spurred other laughters into laughter... I wouldn't stop, making sure even ebbing laughs resurged into wild, boisterous storms. I was still enjoying my sweet bit of revenge, until abruptly, she stormed our seat and grabbed her bag, turning to leave. I held her hand. The canteen fell silent again as drama, pt. II was unfolding, but I didn't mind performing a public service function, I mean, all the private services I had been performing since I met Anita had only left me with fewer pennies and multitudes of anger-soaked episodes - all of which came with their concomitant thoughts of doing terrible shits - like locking both the exit door and the toilet door one day she's extremely pressed. But since those thoughts never materialized, I could use this small "comic-break" to appeased my vexed spirit... So I start a scene..
"Wetin be that?" I ask with a sneer.
"Jeffrey leave me alone. Leave me alone oh".
Her tears have ruined her make up and now, she looks like an incomplete painting, or a completed one ruined by a small child's water experiments..
"Leave you how? Eh, how, why?"
She tugs at the bag to wrest it from my hands... In her paroxysm, she looks like a fractious "ajebo" child, throwing a tantrum. I almost pity her. I say almost because the next moment, my indignation returns and I determine to see the movie to the end.
"Who go pay for all this things?" I quiz, her tug, as of that of a child to my gym-toned arms...
"Jeffrey! Jeffrey!" she continues to yell, then breaks into a sob, still calling my name.
The waiter hurries to our spot.
"Mr, please let go of her bag now?"
I'd been waiting for this moment for a long time..
"I'm not leaving it!" I sing comically into the air. "No bloody way!" I repeat..
She looks pathetic, sobbing to herself and probably promising herself she would have nothing to do with me again..
I laugh briefly, then address the waiter.
"Oga, she must pay you your money before she leaves oh", I say in a loud voice.
Underneath the pitiful sobbing, I can see Anita is shocked to see me, reserved ol' Jeffrey, making a fool of himself and her at the same time. I couldn't give half a damn anymore.
My last outburst had some men laughing. Some are wishing I stop, even visibly expressing their concerns. But the ones that "give me joy" are those that, like me, are having serious fun. One man in a black suit is laughing so hard and beating the table, I feel like stopping here would be an injustice to him.. So I up the ante.
I let go of her bag and my right knee patiently finds the floor. Anita's eyes pop. She's looks at me deep in the eyes. I reciprocate. My right hand drop into the right pocket of my jeans. I hear people draw in their breaths, clasping their hands to their mouths as though their breathing itself could spoil the perfect moment. I take her left hand in mine, looking all Mr. Loverboy Proposer. I almost laugh as the waiter gentlemanly takes a few steps back, letting is have our blissful time. Blissful indeed it shall be - For me.. For "us" however, I'm not so sure.
She's still staring deep in my eyes as my right hand leave my pocket, empty. Soberly, i join it up with the left, striking the prayer pose.
The canteen is at breaking point. I can tell because my side eyes can see people clamping their lips together or stopping them with their palms. The stage is set, so i pop the question, not giving her any time to stop me...
"Anita", i say softly, "Will you do me the honour of -..."
Her eyes dilate again. I'm seeing the thoughts flooding in her mind. Maybe he wants to propose now and bring the ring later. In my mind, I'm on the floor, laughing myself to ecstaville...
"... Will you do me the honour of - returning my house key, abeg?"
The whole canteen explodes in laughter, followed by uncontrollable coughing. Some people are on the verge of falling and some actually do.
She screams and fresh tears pour down her eyes as she fumbles in her bag for my keys. By then, I was already on the floor, squirming and writhing in untrammelled laughter.
She hurl them at me and runs out of the canteen. I take my time to laugh away my sorrows of all those years of humiliation suffered at her hands. It takes a while before I rise from the floor, my white shirt, covered in dirt. I see people wiping their eyes, and the tears of joy remind me that, i'm crying too. I wipe my eyes, then slip my keys into my pocket. The laughs carry me home. Indeed, I knew that by the time it would end, I would have successfully laughed away all those episodes with Anita, along with all of Anita too..
Comments