When we got to Waakye Butik, Adom parked the
car and left to go and meet Freda. I sat back in the car and watched like a
hawk from every available mirror I could find. He hugged her and they spent
some minutes talking. What are they talking about that they can’t do in the car
on our way to drop her silly, skinny ass off?
They then slowly made their way to the car and I must confess; this girl
is beautiful. She has curves, looks trim and her hair was all natural, not
permed. Exactly the look Adom admires. As they made their way back to the car,
I imagined her coming to my side of the door and doing something rude like she
wants me to take the back seat or something. Boy, will I go all berserk on
them! She disappointed me though, and went straight for the back seat. She sat
directly behind Adom, making it easier for me to study her from the mirrors.
Adom introduced us to
each other. He introduced me as his best friend and her as the smartest girl
he’s met yet; mentioning that she was the smartest among the whole lot that
went for their damned Nestle’ workshop or conference or whatever. I don’t
really care; he had me fuming at ‘smartest’ girl. The girl seemed pleasant
enough. I mean she would be, hello! She’s just trying to snag my best friend!
The plan was that we would drop her off at her house then proceed to the
airport to meet his parents.
Things I never noticed
about Adom before were suddenly getting my attention. Like the way his upper
lip was slightly upturned, the way he has a dimple in his right cheek when he
smiled and the way he casually wore his long-sleeved shirts with the sleeves
folded back to the elbows. Bill has handsome features but Adom is cute and has
presence. That is the only way I can describe it. He is taller than me in
heels. I was never good at the ‘feet and inches’ stuff so pardon me a bit. I am
the standard for everyone’s height; if you are shorter than me, you are short,
if you are taller than I am, you are tall, quite simple. So Adom is your
standard tall, dark, handsome guy and I am yet to meet a girl who likes fair
guys.
So now that my sense of
awareness for a guy I’ve been careful to friend-zone all this while has been
heightened, my sense of insecurity over this African Barbie has also been
raised to crazy proportions. Instinctively, I drew a mental scorecard, (Amanda
vs. Freda). From where I’m sitting, the results look pretty bad for me. Freda
has a beautiful face and an innocent look. I have a pretty face, yes, but the
make-up kind of gives me a minus there. Aside that, no one will call me
innocent. She has rich and flawless black skin; I have light, toned skin
courtesy of all the skin creams around. Don’t get me wrong, my complexion is
beautiful but barely natural and compared to hers, I might as well be a troll.
She looked like a dadabee and we all know I am a wannabe, so, no way would I like
this girl even if she were the nicest in the world. As far as I can see, the
only advantage I have over her is the duration of my friendship with Adom. That
has got to count for something, right. Note
to self: from now on, I am going to treasure my friendship with Adom more and I
am going to manipulate it as much as I can. I am going to be the perfect best
friend.
En route to her place,
they got to conversing and anyone could tell I’d been relegated to the
background. They were discussing Hollywood and Freda seemed knowledgeable enough
in that area. I hate those snotty type
of girls; behaving like everything local was beneath them. I mean who cares
about Prison Break or Breaking Bad when you can have a drama filled Mexican soap
opera anytime? So now I’m giving everyone the cold shoulder; partly because I’m
angry and partly because I don’t have anything to add to the conversation.
Here is another nugget
about me; I give girly a whole new
meaning. I’ve been called immature on occasion. I feel it is my God given right
to be emotional, so as long as there is an emotion to be exploited, I let go
without restraints. Girls have got to learn; sometimes, cool and mature just doesn’t
cut it. However, the damsel in distress act, the tears card or the wall of
silence; they get plenty done. I have no intention of ‘growing up’, not if it
means giving up my ‘feminine tools’. This girl thinks she is intelligent, eh. I
am going to play the ‘I know him better than you do’ card. Lets see how she fares
with that.
“Since your dad gave you
the news that they would be coming today, have you called to confirm that they
would indeed be coming today?” I asked, disrupting their ‘talk’.
“You know, I think you
are right. Would you please call my dad’s cell for me? At least if it doesn’t go
through we can assume they are mid-air.” He answered. I called and Mr. Mensah
picked up.
“Hey son, how are you? Did
you get the mail I sent?” the voice on the line said.
“Hello, Mr. Mensah. Aah,
this is Amanda. Adom is driving and we are on our way to the airport. We just
want to check if you guys were able to catch the flight?” I replied.
“Oh sweetheart, how are
you doing? Tell my son to be checking his mail often. Mira changed her mind
again so we are staying for another month. You kids should just get yourselves
some ice cream and head back home ok.” He said jokingly in his rich baritone.
“Hahaha, will do sir. A hello
to Mum.” I said and got off the phone.
“Your dad says hello, and
that you should be checking your mail more often because they are staying for
another month.” I could tell he wasn’t happy.
“Why didn’t he just call?”
“Hey! Don’t shoot the
messenger.” I said, with hands raised in mock surrender. Take that bitch! I said
to myself, secretly pleased that I’d established my reign once more.
To be continued
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