It was my first day at work. For the first 2 hours of my stay in the office, I was busy taking selfies
and posting on different social media with the hashtags “#firtstday@work
#hustle #noTime” (For my mind *scoffs*). Being that very friendly guy, it really
didn’t take time before I settled in. One of my colleagues was really
impressed,
“seems Jimi is a very
gentle guy”, she said. (Well it’s obvious)
After sitting for hours, doing basically nothing, I decided
to go grab something to eat. Being very eager for my first day at work, I
really didn’t feel like taking any food that morning, all I just wanted to do
was get to work, see my office and take as many selfies as possible.
My
tummy was clearly tired of waiting as it gave me the signs through rumblings
that were unwilling to cease. I dragged my already weak legs through the
beautiful streets of Shitta (a popular area in Surulere, Lagos). Knowing fully
well that things were pretty expensive in this part of Lagos, I kept moving,
looking for an eatery that I’ll deem to be my ‘level’
After about 20 mins of what seemed like a not so interesting
but compulsory stroll, I finally found one fair looking building, “Eat right
Restaurant”. I grinned with satisfaction,
“finally Mr frugal!”, the other me that resided inside of me
sighed (I’ll call him 'guy' throughout this series). Actually, I really don’t
know where I got the silly idea from that a building with title “Eatery” would
definitely be more expensive than that
which carries “Restaurant”.
Fast forward, I strolled in, looked round for a comfortable
corner in the restaurant, found one and I perched. I beckoned on a teenage boy,
who obviously was the waiter,
“What do you have?”, I asked in a bossy but hungry tone. “We
have rice sir. We also have apu, semo and garri sir. We have Oha, ofe akwu,
bitterleaf, Vegetable and egusi soups sir”
oh! It was an Ibo restaurant afterall.
“perfect! guy screamed from the inside” guy was right
actually. It was a perfect move. Being a Yoruba, I was really tired of the
‘ewedu’ and the ‘omi obe’ model, so I tried out different soups from different
parts of Nigeria whenever I had the chance to (abeg, which soup I never chop
sef?). After given it some thought, I ordered for a plate of Semo and Vegetable
and the waiter marched away like a zombie to get my food. It was looking like
forever before my food would come to me, I brought out my SILEX M5 smartphone,
unlocked it but sadly, had no clue of what to do on it (wetin hunger go cause
ehn!). I just found myself going through the contacts on my phone and in the
process, deleted some numbers out of annoyance. After about 10 minutes, my food 'landed'. The soup smelt really nice as most ibo soups would smell. You know,
after eating ibo soups for a long time, I could perceive the ‘okporoko’
(stockfish) smell emanating from the soup- my tummy rumbled again- this time
for joy!
I unhooked my belt to release the pressure on my tummy (one
habit I learnt from my Father- I guess it makes food settle well in one’s tummy),
dipped my hand in the wash hand water and brought it out immediately.
In no time, lumps of semo, accompanied by the vegetable soup journeyed
effortlessly down my throat, actually, it was sumptuous like I had predicted.
In the middle of my meal, guy asked me in his usual manner,
“Jimi, you no even
ask how much dem dey sell, you just balance dey chop sha”, I paused for a moment
and tried not to think that I had been foolish not to have asked how much a
plate of food goes for. I took some seconds to survey the restaurant and came
to the conclusion that a plate shouldn’t be more than N300, having been able to
convince myself and guy, I went ahead to finish my food but trust me, I could
hear guy whistling Oritsefemi’s ‘okpolo eye e no be open eye’
After dealing with the meal, I beckoned on the waiter to come clear the table. I honestly didn’t let
him get to the table before I asked,
“How much is my money?”.
The waiter replied with a very straight face
“N850 sir” (yeeepa! Chop money for 3 days) Almost
immediately, the very lovely taste of the meal that still remained on my taste
bud suddenly changed, it felt like I had just taken one of these bitter
concoctions brought in from Ghana.
I paid hurriedly without looking at his face and dashed out
in style. Going back to the office, guy's taunting filled my ears. I got back
to the office and I wasn’t interested in doing anything again for that day, all
I just wanted to do was sit and brood over the calamity that just befell me.
“Were you able to get a nice eatery?”, a colleague asked.
After thinking for about 10 seconds, I responded,
“Oh yeah I did! A very nice one at that. I actually enjoyed
the meal, I felt like I was at home. The customer service was just great. Very
clean environment. Everything was just smooth, cool, nice, amazing...infact
ehn!”,
I gave her ready-made answers to questions I thought would
most likely come after the first one- she should just pick from the answers and
fill them in (I no get time abeg- I dey vex!) Till I left the office that day,
the sound “chai!” chose to rent an apartment in my head.
* * * *
The following day, I was out for break again. Trust me, I
had forgotten about the experience of the previous day but as I was approaching
the street where the restaurant was situated, guy teased me, “you actually enjoyed
the meal yesterday, didn’t you? Just go na even if it'll be the last time”.
Like one under a spell, I obeyed guy’s instruction, I forged ahead. Guy was
apparently thinking he got me again, he however got the shock of his life when
I got to the restaurant and still took a few steps forward. I stopped in front
of a shop.
“Please do you sell Gala?, I asked the young lady in the
shop. I got one piece and a bottle of coke and headed back to the office with a
sense of triumph over guy. All through the journey back to the office, Guy was unconventionally
quiet!
