Tèmítọ́pẹ́ Ọ̀jẹ́délé-Adéjùmọ̀

Today, I woke up late as usual. The overly-bored-awaiting-NYSC me, who at the moment doesn’t have a job; not because I’m lazy or didn’t look for any but because no one wants a PHCN-like staff in their organization; no stability.

It is not my fault that my mattress is now pressed in at the center and I have to turn it over every morning, to get a firmer side. It is also not my fault that even when my official waking time is 5am, I drag myself back to sleep till anytime I feel like. It is during this period that I force myself to dream while at the same time I get to hear mum’s instructions for the day before she hurries to work.

So today, the setting for my forced dream was a supermarket. If I say “super” I mean the real “super”, not the so called ones that wouldn’t have my brand of toothpaste. And sorry it’s not Shoprite; just supermarket.

Oh what a scintillating feeling that comes from chewing a peppermint gum that never loses its taste while you hold a basket in one hand and look over the shelves with that kind of Mystique’s attention with the other hand doing the picking and going back to hang in mid air, facing downward from the wrist like the joint is loosened, when it’s not picking anything.

So I was doing just that, and was at the deodorants section, when my eyes fell on a purse. It was just there like it was waiting for me, like it was staring at me. I looked away and continued staring at a bottle of Explore Silver, but my mind remained on it.

I went further but my mind wasn’t interested in shopping again and my gum has suddenly lose its taste and my ‘picking hand’ now keeps rubbing itself on my jean trousers and the ‘basket hand’ is now clutching the basket hard and I’m sure it was choking.

In a swift movement, I went back to that section, picked up the purse, tore a sheet from the jotter in my purse, wrote my phone number on it and dropped it where the purse was sitting.

I didn’t drop my number to be a good Samaritan, no way!  I dropped the number there in case I’m about leaving and someone, who would be the owner, asks “did you see a purse lying there? ” I would quickly say “yes”, while holding my head up high, and say “I dropped my number on the spot so you could call me and get it back. You would be the only one that understands why the number is there. I don’t trust these young workers, they wouldn’t deliver it. ” After saying this,  the owner,  preferably a guy,  would give me a charming smile,  and say “do you mind if I invite you to lunch? ”

But I left the supermarket and there was no question, no invitation to lunch. I stopped a bike, and headed home. I went into my room, sat on my bed and opened the purse and right inside were crisp notes of 100 dollars in ten places. Somehow I forced another zero at the back and I had a thousand dollars in ten places! My phone is yet to ring…