Continued from here.
When I finally regained composure, I had to come back real quick.
“Jide, please don’t get it twisted.”, I said with what I hoped was a lighthearted laugh.
Me: I was telling my sister about my week and she was asking too many questions, besides I don’t have that much love for Yoruba boys. So don’t flatter yourself, Jide.
Jide: Take it easy! I was really feeling myself (laughs), I guess that backfired in my face. Besides, what’s your issue with Yoruba boys?
Me: I had two exes who got married while still living in their father’s BQ. I know a few things that Jesus died for but leaving in my father in-laws BQ wasn’t one of them.
Jide: Maybe, It has to do with your choice of boys, you should consider real men.
Me: Have a good night, Jide.
Jide: Are you mad at me?
Me: No, It’s a work day tomorrow and I’ve got quite a lot on my desk.
I couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.
Monday evening after a long ass day at work, I’m all snuggled on my sofa with a rare glass of Pinot settled in to catch up with Cosmopolitan and Vogue. I love moments like this. The night is so cool and clear and I’m a lil’ tipsy from the wine what with my low tolerance for alcohol but I feel so nice and warm inside. I’m breezing through the pages of the magazines, looking to find the latest trends, I’m off in my own world. Nothing or no one can kill my vibe.
My phone rings.
I thought I turned this thing off.
I check the caller I.D its Jide.
I quickly fix my hair, and straighten out my pajamas unconsciously. It’s a phone call Ibukun, he can’t see you woman!
Me: Oh, hi.
Jide: Jolie, is this a bad time?
Me: err not really…I was a little busy. I have a guest.
I have no idea why I lied, maybe ‘cause I didn’t want him to think I’m one of those ladies that come home to a lonely apartment with no boo. My mother told me never to make yourself available for a man 24/7 during courtship.
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