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In Literature, Writing and Blogging 3 min read
Late Arrival, Pretty Passenger…..(LAP)
<p>It was about two years ago—probably sometime in August—when Thony told me the night before that he wanted us to go window shopping. The plan was simple: step out quickly, check a few things, buy what we needed, and head back home.</p><p><br/></p><p>On the day itself, I woke up early so I could finish my chores ahead of time and avoid clashing with our agreed meeting time. Once I was done, I rushed into the bathroom, got myself ready, dressed stylishly, and left for the next street—Thony’s street, by the way.</p><p><br/></p><p>When I got to his house, I realized Thony was still in the bathroom, enjoying life like he had nowhere to be. I immediately threw a playful curse at him and left him to reflect on his choices.</p><p><br/></p><p>He had said we were leaving by 12:00 p.m., yet by 1:15 p.m. he was still inside, complaining about how rough his hair felt and how he needed enough time to wash it properly.</p><p><br/></p><p>Eventually, we left around 2:10 p.m., because clearly, urgency was not part of his agenda.</p><p><br/></p><p>We passed the first bus stop, then the second—and that was when the real experience began.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><blockquote><strong>The Experience</strong></blockquote><p><br/></p><p>We got to Ishaga, the bus stop where we were supposed to take a shuttle to the market. We waited for a few minutes before a shuttle pulled up in front of us.</p><p><br/></p><p>“Ishaga! Ishaga! Ishaga!” the driver called out.</p><p><br/></p><p>We hurriedly entered and sat at the back, with Thony sitting on my lap—yes, proper lapping—because we were low on funds and didn’t want transport fare to eat into what we planned to buy.</p><p><br/></p><p>Shortly after, there was just one seat left in front.</p><p><br/></p><p>That was when she entered.</p><p><br/></p><p>A dark-skinned, thick lady stepped in and took the seat.</p><p><br/></p><p>My attention moved from zero to one hundred instantly as I slowly took in the sight of the beautiful stranger who had suddenly joined our journey.</p><p><br/></p><p>She had brown eyes, smooth dark skin, and a small patch of pimples resting lightly on one side of her face. She wore a fitted black outfit that looked custom-made for her, and let’s just say… she carried herself very well—front and back.</p><p><br/></p><p>Judging by her height, she was around 5’2”—which felt tiny compared to my 6’7”. She looked like she was probably in her twenties.</p><p><br/></p><p>Thony noticed immediately where my mind had gone and quietly muttered:</p><p><br/></p><p>“<strong>Your type</strong>.”</p><p><br/></p><p>I laughed.</p><p><br/></p><p>Still stealing glances, I leaned toward him and asked:</p><p><br/></p><p>“How would she react if I asked for her contact?”</p><p><br/></p><p>Without missing a beat, he replied:</p><p><br/></p><p>“Una wey dey lap sef wan collect number?”</p><p><br/></p><p>That one hit hard 😅</p><p><br/></p><p>And honestly, looking at our current situation—two grown guys managing transport fare and one of us sitting on the other’s lap—I concluded that my chances were not looking great.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><blockquote><strong>The Real Deal?</strong></blockquote><p><br/></p><p>Want to know what really happened?</p><p><br/></p><p>Coughs…</p><p><br/></p><p>That’s for Part 2.</p><p><br/></p><p>Was it a success… or did it backfire?</p><p><br/></p><p>We’ll find out 👀</p><p><br/></p>

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