Mickey Jay: Memoirs Of A Lagos Playboy (I)

At last! Friday is here!! Dear readers of my blog, i present to you Mickey Jay: Memoirs of a Lagos Playboy. Please enjoy and your comments will be much appreciated! ;)

5th June, 2012.
2. 13pm

Today, during my lunch break I ran into this pretty lady. She said her name was Christy. She was about 5’7′, slim and well proportioned in perfectly cut dark suit and matching pants. A career woman from her outfit; most likely a banker. Now, I’ll let you know this upfront; I’m not looking to get settled just yet. I just want to have fun. I’m young, cool and handsome. I won’t say I’m rich but I do just fine. This was a much needed change from my steady routine of UNILAG…sorry, Moshood Abiola University babes (No thanks to Mr. President).

Before you call me spineless, hear me out. I don’t usually chase career women. You should know why. This is Lagos! It is teeming with single career women and 7 times out of 10, any single career woman you date is hoping you propose after six months of intense romance and hot sex. Not me. Call me selfish but I treasure my freedom too damn much. I don’t want to be wrapped around a woman’s fingers just yet. Actually, the last career woman I dated was a little over a year ago. Untangling myself from her web of possessiveness proved trickier than I thought with so many unsavory experiences; especially her exceptional detective skills that I’d rather not talk about. I’ll leave it at that.

Yes, Christy…she said her name was Christy. She wore her hair long and natural. She wore light make-up which perfectly accentuated her pretty face. She was fair in complexion in stark contrast to my dark. But then, fair complexioned ladies always found me attractive. She had ordered and was eating alone, deeply engrossed in her blackberry. I studied her as I ordered my lunch. I surmised she would be in her late 20′s or early 30′s. She didn’t wear much jewelry. No ring on her finger. She spent more time on her phone rather than on her nearly untouched meal; a clear indication she was in no hurry. However, the usual signals I usually seek before I moved in on a prey were absent (trade mark secrets so I ain’t telling!). Here was an absolutely confident woman who reeked of success. If there was any chink in her armor, she hid it well and to find it, I’d have to get close.

I picked up my lunch, paid for it and went straight towards her table. She seemed to take notice and she looked up at me. For a split second, I saw something in there as our eyes met. Yeah…I’m not bragging but I usually have that effect on women. She looked away as I got to her table. 

“Hi, hope you don’t mind if I join you?” I said. She looked up and shrugged. The silent treatment eh, I thought. I sat down directly across her and pretended to be engrossed in my meal. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her steal a look. She seemed be a bit uncomfortable with my nonchalant presence but didn’t make any attempt to leave. Nearly half way through my meal, I said, “I see you have hardly touched your meal for almost fifteen minutes now.”

My statement surprised her and she looked up from her mobile phone. I continued, “Hope everything’s ok?”

“You’ve been monitoring me, haven’t you?” She said, her voice low and sweet. A light smile had formed across her pretty lips.

“Well, I admit I have. You are certainly worth monitoring.” I said and flashed my most charming smile.

“I’m Michael…”, I said extending my hand which she took. Her hand was soft, very soft. “…but you can call me Mick.”

“I’m Christy.” She said, smiling. Beautiful lips.

“I have a confession Christy. One I hope you’ll bear with me for sharing” I said apologetically. “I woke up this morning with a very special feeling…one that I couldn’t explain, until now.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, a bit taken aback.

“There was something special about today that I didn’t understand but finally I did when I saw you.”

I saw many things in her eyes. Shock, incredulity, surprise but repulse wasn’t one of them. She dropped her phone close to her barely touched meal which consisted of just a plate of Coleslaw and surveyed me critically. I put on my game face, meal pushed aside.

“I’m impressed.” She said. “Those are excellent pick up lines. Do girls usually fall for them?” She asked, mockingly.

“They are not pick up lines,” I said calmly, maintaining my intense stare. 

“Merely an expression of my feelings. There was a promise of beauty in my life today and I’ve just come face to face with it.”

There was a small frown, but it was gone in a second. I could imagine the turmoil going through her mind. I had sowed a seed and it would germinate. My stare continued and she grew uncomfortable. She reached for her unopened bottle of water, almost knocking it down. With amazing reflex, I caught it, broke the seal and handed it back to her. Her fingers brushed mine as she retrieved it back. She unscrewed the cap, took two quick gulps and replaced the cap. 

“What do you want from me?” She asked.

“Just your number” I said meekly as I brought out my phone and handed it to her. She took it without hesitation and typed in her number. I dialed the number as soon as she handed my phone back.

“Don’t you trust that I gave you the right number?” She asked, laughing.

“There’s that but I want you to have my number as well.” I said smiling. Her phone vibrated on the table and I cut the call. I rose up.

“Christy, you just made my day.” I extended my hand again and when I received hers, this time I kissed it. She went bright red.

Without another word, I turned and walked towards the exit. I could feel her eyes boring holes in my back and I was suddenly cautious about missing a step. It was a relief to walk out the eatery establishment without any form of mishap. She would be mine by weekend. 

(To Be Continued...)

Malcolm O. Ifi.

Follow on twitter @saymalcolm

Copyright © 2012 Malcolm O. Ifi.