I met this girl, Sandra, on Instagram. Fine girl, yellow like freshly fried plantain, with a smile that could resurrect a dead man. We chatted for a few days, and she kept calling me "babe" and "love," so I assumed she liked me. You know, as a sharp guy, I decided to take her on a date.
I told her, "Pick anywhere you want, but not too expensive o."
She laughed and said, "Babe, don't worry, I know a place."
Na so I gree.
On the D-day, I dressed like a Yahoo boy that just cashed out clean white sneakers, ripped jeans, and my best perfume. I got to the restaurant before her and started calculating my pocket. I had ₦20k, which I believed was more than enough.
Then, Sandra walked in. Ah! Even the waiter had to pause and admire her. She was glowing like someone who had just finished a seven-day fasting and prayer session.
"Hey baby," she said, hugging me tightly.
My head swelled. "Babe, you're looking sweet."
She blushed and sat down. Then wahala started.
"Waiter! Come here!" she commanded.
I was sipping my water, watching the scene unfold like a Nollywood movie.
She opened the menu and started pointing.
"I want grilled lobster, king prawns, sushi, and that special imported steak."
I nearly choked. "Sandra, hope you're not too hungry?"
She laughed. "Babe, don’t worry. I eat like a bird."
A bird? Which kind vulture eats ₦1 million worth of food?
Before I could protest, she continued.
"Also, bring your finest red wine. The one of ₦250k."
Jesus wept.
My spirit left my body, went to my pocket, and screamed, "Henry, RUN!"
I was sweating. Even the AC could not cool me down. The waiter brought the bill and handed it to me with a wicked smile. ₦1,050,000.
I swallowed hard. "Sandra, you get money?"
She laughed. "Ah! Why are you asking? Aren’t you the man?"
That's when I knew I had entered one-chance.
I smiled, stood up, and said, "Excuse me, let me use the restroom."
Sandra continued snapping selfies, flexing her newly done nails.
I entered the toilet, looked at myself in the mirror, and whispered, "Henry, you will not die today."
I checked the window. It was small, but fear of debt made me slim instantly.
I squeezed myself out, landed at the back of the restaurant, and RAN.
I ran like my village people were chasing me. I ran like I was competing with Usain Bolt. I didn’t stop until I reached my street.
An hour later, my phone started ringing. It was Sandra.
I picked up.
"HENRY, YOU BE BASTARD!"
I cleared my throat. "What happened?"
"You left me here with a ₦1 million bill! They said I must pay or wash plates! Henry, God will punish you!"
I burst into laughter. "Baby, you said I’m the man. You too, be the woman and pay."
She screamed, "Your papa! I swear for you! Thunder will fire you!"
Then she ended the call.
I switched off my phone, ordered a plate of small chops from my street vendor, and munched happily.....YOUR FADA... Naso I borrow myself Sense.
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\"HENRY, YOU BE BASTARD!\"