So I run into Bukola’s hotel Bathroom to hide from Dami. I was told that she was coming and I didn’t want her to see me…
For all the people with perverse minds, may God forgive you… it’s not what you think.
It was the night before my graduation. Dami and her family had just come in to New York from Houston and I was just getting off work. Both of us had made plans for a pre-graduation celebration dinner at K-Town. But as usual I was running late…
At least that’s what she thought.
She’s in her room all dressed up wondering where I am and giving me a lecture on timeliness…
I am in the other room agreeing with everything she says and apologizing while her family members are inspecting her ring in my hand.
At this point I am 30 mins “late” so she calls me and lets me know she doesn’t feel like going anywhere anymore… I laughed so hard inside… I knew she would have a change of heart once all this was over.
Her sisters formulate a plan to bring her into Bukola’s room and of course she bit the bait.
Bukola: “OK she’s on her way”
Me: “gehn gehn”
We were looking for a place to pack me in… but it had to be on my own terms… there was no way I was going to ruin this double breasted suit… custom made from India…. for $100 (No seriously where are you ever going to find a custom made suit for a 100 bucks? God bless India)
In Hiding… she comes in with her potna in crime Bolaji, looking all juicy… swinging her hips with a confidence I had never seen, accompanying it with a soundtrack to match…
“SHE GOTTA DONK, SHE GOTTA DONK”
“eh heh… so this is how she acts when I’m not around…” couldn’t complain too much though… that yansh was rotating in all its splendor.
Maybe that was the reason I hopped out of the bathroom. In any case, I creep up behind her, and surprise her with my face. She is shocked and annoyed, but is wondering why I was trying to surprise her. She quickly put two and two together when I uttered these words…
“So…. Remember when I told you I was too scared to talk to your mom? Well…”
The panic attack came
She said yes…
And now we are here
This writing style was purely inspired by the erratic nature of the documentary “Blue Note: A History of Modern Jazz”