I've been doing research for a new story series I'm working on. It's set in a local hair salon.
See enh, I used to think this city is low-key boring. Nah. I just wasn't going to the right places.
Is it the one where a man dragged his wife to change the weave she'd worn for six months? Egads! The salon stank when that thing came off.
Fate was definitely at play here. Anyway, Lady 1, 2 and 3 come to the salon at different times. 1 and 3 are having weaves installed, 2 is making braids.
You know, I think hairdressers/barbers are undercover therapists, because clients always talk in their shops.
Gist was going on, regular stuff. Then the subject of men came up, finally. The particular topic was weasel boyfriends.
"The last one my guy just did, I don't think I will forgive him for now," says Lady 3.
(I'm paraphrasing here).
My ears perk up. My bum unconsciously shifts my upper body forward.
"He said he wanted to invest in his business. Business, I haven't seen, my money don enter voicemail. But I've told him that if I don't get my money by month end, me and him will have trouble.
At this point, Lady 1 pipes in. Her man is a good man, she says. He accepts and is like a father to her son.
I'm sitting there like, damn this single to stupor! I need a man. 😭
But Lady 2 cuts short my God whenning. She drops a name.
"Michael doesn't know me. He will see my real colour if that money doesn't appear by this month's end."
"Your boyfriend's name is Michael? My guy too is Michael," says Lady 1.
"No. Michael Ukpo*?" whispers Lady 2. Then she clears her throat and repeats her question. "Is he from..... in.....state? Your guy is Michael Ukpo?"
I know say e no consine me but I supported them by adding my own exclamation.
"Excuse me! Is this a joke or something?" barked Lady 1.
"Michael has finished me," Lady 3 says softly under her breath.
"Is this a joke?" Lady 1 repeats.
"Ah! Michael, God will punish you!" Lady 2 screams, a throbbing vein on her forehead threatening to break skin and make an entrance into fresh air.
"It will not be be well with you, Michael."
"Auntie, how do you know him?" she asks Lady 2.
"He's my boyfriend. Kai!" she bites her right forefinger. "Idiot that I suffered for."
Salon owner moves on to Lady 1. "Are you sure he's your boyfriend?"
"I even took money from my savings that I don't touch and gave him to invest his business. What have I not done for that bastard! And he still had the guts to cheat on me."
Another round of mini pandémonium and monetary calculation. Lady 1 reaches for her bag and fishes out a phone. Then she orders us all to be quiet. Do we have a choice? We all shut up.
Eh....yes. From Jabi. Yeah.
Mmmhhm....today. Ehen? That's fine. OK. I'll be waiting for your call."
Let me summarise this part...I want to gaan sleep abeg.
Auntie Lady 1 made arrangements to move every single item from Michael's house to her house.
Lady 2 then informed them that there was a Lady 4, who is currently pregnant for Michael.
Then they settled down to plan their revenge, while the rest of us listened with rapt attention.
The way I was feeling, I may join them sef. Michael....you no try!
No one elected me, but I've appointed myself as the Official Cheerleader.
They'll be meeting tomorrow to discuss plans. Later this week, I'll return to the salon for updates.
And Abuja women and paying rent/giving men money for investment. SMH
The real End.