I pee easily so be careful what you give to me

Hola peeps. ¡Imagínese el nervio!

So there I am in my penthouse basking in the euphoria of constant power, free cable, free internet access and free food when I get informed by the club management I would have to move out to make way for a newly hired dancer. I was flabberwhelmed! 11 months of bliss and now I’d have to look for a place and go back to the life of mere mortals by purchasing petrol for the generator, making my own bed, cooking hiring someone to cook my own food. Oh the pain, the pain. After two nights of uninterrupted wailing – yes, even guys with killer six-packs cry now and then – I pulled myself up by the bootstraps and set about the task of locating a crib in Warri.

On the first day saw a decrepit 4-bedroom place that needed loadsa work, and was gonna search for other spots ‘til a colleague suggested we share the place. Hmmm, tarred roads, excellent security – there’s a police station a street away – and now a potential roommate who’s willing to cook? Why slap me silly and call me Clay Aiken, I am sold.

Soon afterwards, scurried around for artisans to sort out electricity connection, plumbing, etc. Now this is where one discovers the shady nature of Nigerians. What right do we have to blame our venal leaders if when we get an opportunity we milk it for all it’s worth and hope to use that one opening to set ourselves up for life? Too disappointed to even go into it. U know u try to have faith in human nature and then folk just turn around and smack u upside the head. Reminds me of when I moved back to Naija in 2005 and mom would tell me to be careful how I dealt with domestic staff, mechanics, etc. “That’s ur problem mom,” I would chastise, “u must learn to trust people. How else are we gonna improve as a country?” Well, millions of naira, missing fave pair of jeans, missing fave pair of leather sandals, and stolen three wristwatches (and who knows what else?) later I get what she was trying to say.

U know how as a kid u had a help who beat u up and treated u like crap, and when u got older u wished she’d come back so u’d give her a taste of her own medicine? Well, I got my wish only I got mistreated again, and didn’t know it ‘til it was too late. Peep this: my earliest memory of a domestic staff is aunty Blessing. Can’t remember what she looked like but do recall she had the thickest hair ever. Aunty Blessing would force eba down our throats while she made fried plantain for herself, and would whup us and threaten even more whuppings if we blurted out her deeds to mom. Aunty Blessing resigned/was sacked when I was about 5, 6 years old and kept praying I’d bump into her as I got older so I’d kick her ass.

Fast forward to 2005 when my mom got a help called…wait for it….Blessing. Although this Blessing was from Akwa Ibom State while aunty Blessing was Ibo, she still tortured me, only in subtler ways. This Blessing also waited ‘til mom was away – she travelled to the UK for 3 months – to show her fangs. Mom had advised I lock my room whenever I was stepping out, but chided her on openness (see above). B4 too long all my watches had vanished, but thought they would reappear and that maybe I had carelessly left them somewhere. I finally saw Blessing as, ahem, aunty Blessing incarnate when I returned from work one evening and requested a meal of fish and fried plantain. “Brother, the plantain wey been dey house no gree ripe so I troway am. But I fit make eba for you sha.” Oh no, no, not again, another ‘Blessing’ was depriving me from my plantains. It was then the scales fell from my eyes.

After this recent Plantain-gate wanted to blog about it, but the words just wouldn’t come out. It wasn’t ‘til I started seeing a new shrink few months back that I have summoned the courage to count my, ahem, Blessings…..and name them one by one. Ha hee ha hee ha hee haw. Also considering titling my memoirs, A Tale of Two Blessings. It’s gonna double as a self-help book.

Saddest thang about the tale above is I still ain’t learnt my lesson. I still hope for a modicum of scrupulous behaviour from everyone, especially mechanics. ‘Cos of this I never haggle with mechanics, they tell me what stuff is gonna cost and I pay. The way I see it if I don’t haggle they ain’t gonna hike up their prices or say they bought fake parts ‘cos I haggled them down. And how has that worked for me so far? Let’s just say they tend to see dollar signs on my forehead whenever I stop by.

The way I am going I’m gonna snap someday and go all Falling Down on all mechanics. For instance, yesterday I drove off when the mechanic and his parts dealer tried to fleece me by doing their good mechanic-shylock trader routine. I’d just had enough; if I had stayed longer I swear I woulda run them over. Dude even had the ding-dongs to call this morning asking when he’d pick up the car. U what, what part of “since I gave u my car it’s been one thing or the other, and now ‘cos of u I’ll have to drive my car with no power steering, hope u are happy”, didn’t he understand? I channelled Sarah Palin and told him, “Thanks, but no thanks.” Quite disheartening ‘cos dude’s the second mechanic I have used in Warri, and though I knew he was fleeceing me, I didn’t say squat ‘cos he did good repairs, until now that is.

I left the first mechanic after he ‘supposedly’ bought some air conditioner parts for Parminder. When I asked him to show me the parts he had replaced he hemmed and hawed and said the parts were kept in his mate’s locker. I returned a few hours later and I got: Erm, erm oga, u no go believe am but thieves came by last night and broke open my guy’s locker. I swear they took everything. And he expected me to believe that? This was same dude who told me he’d bought a part for fifteen grand and when I told him I had requested the one that cost twelve grand he said, But oga, I don buy am and install am already! Ehen, okay ‘cos na u I go forfeit the three thousand balance. Here’s a riddle for y’all, what do u call an honest Nigerian mechanic? Asif. (U don’t get it? Not to worry it’ll hopefully come to you soon like Sarah Palin’s foreign policy credentials)

U know what, it’s all my fault. If only I’d stop dithering and just replace Parminder. Yes, Parminder Tunde’s not that into u. He don’t want u no more. U gonna get traded in babes. Read my lips: TRADED IN. SOLD. GONE like George Bush’s approval rating. FINITO like Yar’Adua’s goodwill. Ooops, promised not to talk about u know who again, didn’t I? My bad.

Ever since I wrote a blog a few months back about replacing Parminder she’s started acting up. I would open the door and discover the trunk would pop open as well. This went on for three straight days until I washed her with dishwashing liquid in holy water - Hey, here’s a joke: How do u make holy water? Boil the hell outta it! - and peed in the petrol tank. Then, it was the turn of the hood to pop open for no reason. Either this is another plot twist by the producers of my life’s version of The Truman Show or my car’s a Transformer.

After a few hypnosis sessions with the shrink I traced this weirdness back to some dude I call the magical mechanic. I refer to him as that ‘cos never seen him in dirty overalls or stained fingernails. I just drop my car off, he quotes an outrageous price, I pay, and voila Parminder is as good as new…okay, newish. And how did I meet the dude? Well, was at an eatery in Warri and she refused to start. Magical mechanic just happened to be passing by – or so he said - and offered to help. Hey, now that I think of it, it was all so convenient, no? Damn TV show producers!

Okay enough of car complaints. How y’all been? Moi? I am aiight. As stated above I’m currently running around like crazy cleaning up new crib, and trying not to get fleeced in the process. With all of this going on had to find time to visit PH to move household accoutrements to Warri. Jumped at the chance when a mate offered a ride to PH. Boy, was it a thrill a minute, and not in a good way.

First, he showed up late and an hour into the trip we saw a ghastly accident. Then we got flagged down by the police but dude said he saw them too late so he drove past the first obstacle in the road. Little did we know that the copper had signalled his colleagues manning the final obstacle, so as we drove past they pushed an engine block across the road that damaged dude’s left rear tire. We drove on for a minute or so until we saw the welcome sign of a vulcanizer’s shed. What we didn’t know was where we parked was the only route to the police station, so it didn’t take long for the officers to come across us. Soon as he saw them mate started remonstrating, saying they had stopped him too late and now his tire’s ruined. Officers asked for his car papers, he handed them over and was winning his argument against them - u see in regular Nigerian society even if u wrong raise ur voice to decibels that would cause a minor earthquake and u more than likely would get away with any offence – until an eagle-eyed officer observed his driver’s license had expired. Uh oh.

They took him to see their sergeant and as these things go they asked for 10 grand else he’d be locked up for the weekend. Now I wasn’t too avid a fan of LA Law to argue for my mate’s release so with the help of an elderly gentleman that coincidentally knew mate from Lagos we beat the officers down to 2.5 grand. Yup, second time in consecutive blogs I have been involved in graft. Man, my future political opponents are gonna have a field day with this.

Now I understand mate was at fault – he confessed to not knowing his license had expired – but u’da seen the way the arresting officers acted. Sometimes I feel for our men in black ‘cos they live in a hypocritical society where we pay them about 17 grand a month and yet expect them not to engage in duplicitous activities. C’mon. That’s why even when my documents are complete and I get stopped I still give them a li’l something. However, when they act all high and mighty and openly extort money from regular citizens it gets my blood boiling – yes, even guys with killer six-packs get miffed now and then – and I look for ways to get even. For instance, if I had written this blog earlier in the week I won’t have resorted to what I am about to do, but seeing as Arsenal lost to Hull yesterday - that’s 2 losses already y’all – someone’s gotta pay. The arresting officer that solicited a bribe is Ndubuisi Nwachukwu with badge number 401683, at least that’s what was stitched on his uniform. If u think this is being mean then u don’t know the half of it ‘cos I still recall the first policeman – saw him directing traffic during last visit to Lagos - that took a bribe from me some months after I returned to Naija; it was a Sunday and was on my way from church to take then girlfriend out to brunch. He and his taller colleague – don’t remember that dude’s face – falsely accused me of jumping a red light. U just wait ‘til I get his details…..

So now that I got that outta my system, what else did I get up to? Oh yeah, by the time we left the police station we had lost two hours. Rest of ride to PH was uneventful, though we got stopped by more coppers, but these guys were friendly. Actually bumped into one who prayed for us. Yup, he called himself Pastor Mopol and for some reason his nom de plume reminded me of some dude that appeared on some cancelled BET talk show proclaiming to be a Homo thug. As the name implies he’s a gangster rapper who is proudly gay. Yeah, since we on this tip what the deallie with Lindsay Lohan? Read last week that she’s in a relationship with some female DJ. Sure. Ladies and gentlemen, I introduce u to the newest graduate of the Anne Heche school of straight-gay-straight-gay Hollywood publicity seekers…..Miss Lindsay Lohan.

Other entertainment news: Paul Newman, a fine actor and even better human being, passed away last night. May God bless his soul and console his family.

Nate Dogg’s reported to be doing fine after surviving a second stroke. Hey, how old’s this dude anyway? I reckon he got the 1st stroke after Akon usurped him as the go-to-guy for singing hooks on hip hop songs. Second one was after he realized T-Pain’s passed him as well. Guess Chris Rock was right about the music industry: here today, gone today. All in all One More Day is still one of my fave hip hop songs. Who woulda thunk the lyrics would apply to Nate Dogg so?

And in Nollywood news……yeah right.

PH News: So get into PH late and married mate picks me up. Then we hang out with the guys for a bit b4 I feign tiredness and suggest we leave. Pssttt, married mate doesn’t know this, but his wife called me b4 he showed up and told me to ensure we return early ‘cos she doesn’t like her husband staying out at night. Hey, she feeds me whenever I am in PH so I gotta do whatever she says.

Was ace seeing the guys again and when I asked about a notable absentee was informed he was baby-sitting for his fiancee’s sister. Hey, these things happen.

Struck an interesting conversation with another mate who tells anyone that’ll listen about his readiness to settle down. Among the ‘original’ PH crew he and me are the only single ones left, so there’s kinda an unspoken competition not to be the last unmarried dude. Yeah, so we talking and he’s asking me to hook him up…

Tunde: Now why in goodness would I hook u up? U think I wanna be the last one to get married? Dude, misery loves company.
Mate: Ha. But u gotta hook me up. Remember the lengths I went thru to get u that girl’s number?
Tunde: Which one?
Mate: The one that works at Zenith Bank! How did that go anyways?
Tunde: Oh yeah, I remember. Well, dunno if I owe u anything considering she failed the 3-phonecalls-and-ur-number-gets-deleted test…
Mate: That bad, huh? Okay, but u gotta hook me up
Tunde: Okay if u insist. A mate introduced me to this girl in PH and reckon u might like her.
Mate: Is she fine?
Tunde: Heck yeah
Mate: Then why ain’t u interested? Okay if she’s so fine how come she’s single and….what’s wrong with her?
Tunde: U just unbelievable dude. First, u ask for a hook up now u act all flaky, looking for an excuse in case stuff don’t pan out as u want. U remind me of this punk I know called Miguel. He does the same thang.
Mate: Hey, a brother just wants to know….
Tunde: Okay how about this? U a good looking guy, no? U got a nice job, nice crib, nice house, make good money, how come u single? What’s wrong with u? Maybe u a serial killer, maybe u got a cornucopia of STDs. Yeah, maybe that’s it, maybe that’s why u single.
Mate: Ha. Okay I get ur point. So when do I meet her?
Tunde: Well, that depends if u’ll be willing to sign this sheet that states if u guys fall in love y’all won’t get married ‘til after I get hitched…

The next day I returned to my house to pack and wondered why I rented the crib in the first place, considering in two years I probably spent all together less than 3 months in the place. Had some good memories though.

Later that day saw Arsenal beat Bolton (3-1) – now those were the days – and attended some shindig. Saw an empty seat and no sooner had I rested my derriere did some chick start a conversation about nothing in particular. Then, Shania Twain’s You Are Still The One came on and this lady sorta became emotional. What a beautiful song. I am gonna play this on my wedding day. Why do u men always run away at the first little bump in the road? U see my ex…no, I WILL NOT TALK ABOUT HIM. Anyways, u know that Shania wrote the song about her husband, right? Nobody thought they’d make it but they’ve been married for so long now. Didn’t have the heart to tell her that Shania and Mutt Lange are no longer together. As if to further buttress my point Whitney’s I Will Always Love U came on next. Lol, two now-divorced songstresses one after the other. How ironic.

As the night wore on it became obvious that the DJ was only interested in playing slow songs. Hmmm, maybe he’s Miss Talk-A-Lot’s ex; now wouldn’t that be interesting? While grabbing some bbq I heard a Naija song with a nice beat, but the most hilarious song lyrics. I think I heard I just wanna gbe e saya, like a pillow/Baby se se de (Interpretation: I just wanna place u on my chest, like a pillow/Baby quickly come over). Now ain’t that hilarious, the combination of Yoruba and English like that? Okay, here’s a disclosure: I THINK I heard those lyrics but cannot be sure ‘cos last time I thought I had happened upon a hilarious song lyric I was way off base. Y’all remember the popular Yoruba Xtian song Ko so ba bi re? There’s a part in the song where the singer repeats Ko so ba, ko so ba over and over again. Well, ahem, ur fave blogger thought he heard cassava, cassava instead and wondered allowed if the lady was lauding (then Nigerian president) Obasanjo’s promotion of cassava cultivation and export. U’da seen how family members laughed at me.

Oh, u think that’s bad? I definitely recall different peeps swearing (with explanations as to why they were right) that the chorus to Snoop Dogg’s Serial Killer (from the Doggy Style CD) was not Serial Killer, but :

1. Stereo Killer (’cos Snoop songs are so dope they murder ur stereo)
2. Snoopy Dogg July (’cos Snoop was born in the month of July)

Vaguely remember younger sister Seyi switching Warren G’s Regulate lyrics to …they took my rings, they took my BRACELET. Yup, one’s gotta watch out for those bracelet-wearing LA gangsters, no? Ha. If y’all are bored and wanna join in the fun at home try putting on any SEAL CD taking turns to see how u do. Or if you have a life………

Warri news: Say what u want about PH but they got some impressive women. Warri, on the other hand…….let’s just say that sometimes one would rather have a conversation without pidgin English thrown in copiously. Maybe I hang out at the wrong spots, but man, it’s almost as if the women here can’t live without pidgin English. I know I am generalizing, but…okay peep this: A few months back mates come into town and decide to go clubbing. While about to cop tickets I notice this girl standing on her own so I strike up a conversation. She tells me she’s with her friend and they on the look out for someone to pay their way in. U what? Normally this would raise flags, but she spoke fluent English! I go back to the guys’ huddle and while pretending to make audibles like I am Peyton Manning I tell them I just experienced the equivalent of seeing The Abominable Snowman. The guys don’t believe me so they send another on a reconnaissance mission. Dude returns and blurts out, “she cannot be from Warri! She speaks good English. Who cares if her request is dodgy, I say we pay for her and her friend just on the strength of her English.” And they say education no longer opens doors….

Tot ziens and God bless.

PS
In case u were wondering, yes, the girl from the club was not from Warri, just visiting for a few days from Benin. Come on Warri, I am gonna be here at least for the next year, surprise me please.