A gooooood week to everyone and may all our troubles be put behind us or flushed down the toilet! It is so good to be jaunty again. I have my cousin visiting me for the week and he is eating the house down. He just graduated from university and is serving out his paramilitary cum volunteering service to the nation also known as youth corps in Yobe state, and arid semi desert area in the northern part of the country. He came in gaunt and went straight to bed – for two days! Now he’s eating like a caterpillar, except he is not getting any fatter! God I miss those days you eat, eat and eat and it just doesn’t show on your body. Anyway I’ll just let him run riot and then sadistically release him to sandstorm city! Heh, heh, heh!
Seriously, thanks everyone for your support in the past few weeks; it meant a lot to me. I observed some interesting comments on my posts though, especially the last one. May I reiterate that this was a singular experience with a particular production company so let’s please not paint other production outfits or any country with the same brush. It is easy for this to degenerate to a level we have no business going so let’s put things in perspective. Thanks! Now for this week: I’ve been stung by a bee. That was last week on my way to work when I was taken (gba) by a fuel pump attendant.
I had stopped at a busy petrol station on busy highway quite close to the domestic airport in Lagos and decided to top up my fuel tank so I’d have enough fuel for a few days, actually two; Betty’s so thirsty. One of the attendants, a lady, beckoned me over and so I parked at her pump. She was filling someone else’s car on the other side of the pump so I waited patiently. When she finished, she brought that pump on the other side, they usually have long hoses, over to my side and inserted the nozzle in my tank and asked how fuel I wanted. I told her to put two thousand Naira’s worth. Obviously I couldn’t see the metre from where I was being on the other side. I think she saw the questioning look in my eyes because she asked if I’d like to come round and check that the correct amount of fuel I requested for was being pumped. She looked at me coolly, a small smile playing on her lips as she waited. I looked at her, studying her. She was plump, not particularly groomed and so apparently not too bothered about her looks. I surmised that she probably had kids and so was a responsible person. Plus, it was drizzling and I didn’t want to get wet. I took a chance and asked her to go right on and looked hard at her while she pumped away. There was an intermittent gasp, or so I thought.
She finished pumping, closed the tank and I paid her and went on my merry way. As I was driving I kept my eye on the fuel needle to watch it climb like I always do. It kept climbing until it stopped – well short of the place it should have rested! Oh! I smiled. Lagos don gba me! And worse still I was already joined another highway and couldn’t turn back. Not that I could if I wanted to anyway because I was going to work; I had little time to waste. I’m going back there again. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’m going back there again. Well at least it’s given me something for us all to laugh about.
Got to go guys; my producer’s on my neck to come on set so please do have a great week everyone and, please get out of your cars to check your metres! Ciao!