YEAR: 2000 & Eternity
MONTH: The 13th One
DATE: The First and hopefully, the Last Day that I will need to explain myself!
DAY ONE: The first entry of the year. What a year. The year that I am beginning to take back, all that was stolen from me. Reclaiming as it were, all that is MINE! Taking no prisoners and leaving no holds barred.
Wait a fleeting second. I think someone just pulled my hair. I turn around and there is this creepy-clown, grinning like a roasted goat. (At least that is how I saw that delicious spectacle, in my grandmother’s house.) Anyway, back to the problem and dialogue at hand.
ME: “Excuse me, did you just touch me? No let me re-phrase that question, exactly as it happened. Mr. Did you just pull on my hair?” The cool, calm and collected demeanor, that I was displaying. Frightened the ebbing daylights, out of even me. ‘Creepy’ nodded victoriously and appeared satisfied. “And why is that? If I may ask.” I continued perturbed. I mean I should be, shouldn’t I? Flabbergasted that is, considering it was my hair that was jerked back.”
HIM: “Oh, I just want to see it.” Captain ‘Creep’, had found his voice. But would not lose, the bothersome grin. “I watch the T.V. in my country and I see the girls fight and pull out the hair. It is verrry nice.” He beams gladly. Indeed it is, I fume inwardly. It is very nice, that a glare can’t shoot like a gun, because I have nineteen bullets waiting to be released from my eyeballs. And I will gladly cap it off, with three smoking cannonballs. But since that would probably be a minor felony, which would buy me a ‘jump-skip-and-pass-the-jail-premises’ ticket. I will speak instead and I will break each word down, mildly and gently.
So easy will be my oratory, that even a door-nail would understand it. With all the diminishing to non-existent respect, that I could muster. I began to explain; “‘Captain Creepy and Clueless’, this may come as a surprise to you. We are not on T.V. And though this is really happening as a segment of reality, it is not a show and I am not game for caricature. Furthermore, I really don’t care what you think, imagine or have been told. My skin color or hair type, does not guarantee, promote or condone ratchet. So you have six ticking seconds, to back-slide to my peripheral and then hopefully disappear eventually.” No sooner had I delivered my kind advice, than I began to amble away. “Miss, miss, wait please,” was the urgent call from you know who. “Speak to the back,” was my retreating and exasperated retort. “Yes, nice bottom miss….” Was the reply that followed me out.
DAY TWO: It was a cool, sunny day and I was feeling peaceful. This girl was just trying to take in some fresh air, when a mobile and angry mob zoomed by. Nudging and shoving me ever so un-gently, as they plowed through. They were chanting, something about love. However, they did not seem or sound like they were in love to me. Well, no sooner had they surged by, than I resumed my oxygen gasping routine. What do I know? They were back again in a blink. Thrashing their way through the streets, once again.
Their return scuttle I noticed, was for the sole purpose of setting up camp by my left foot. How inspiring, I thought to myself. My very loyal and faithful transporters, would be the location for a ‘peeved parade’. Meanwhile, I will act as a symbol and monumental pillar for yet another civil disturbance. Most likely incited by mis-information, mis-communication and/or a blatant lie. I was a tad bit flushed and flabbergasted, to say the least. But no one noticed or cared, as the tempo of dissent swirled critically around me.
In fact, some would freely discuss their plans of insurgency with me. Completely oblivious, of my abnormally enlarged pupil. Someone had apparently taken the time, to automatically assume. That I was easy game, every time there was noise and ruckus. I was expected, to naturally pick up the last placard. Lying desolately on the tared and dented street and join the mob. There would be no need, for my opinion, input or even caution. I just happened to fit the drifty, lazy and easily manipulated genre. The type that would guzzle up anything, that it was fed. A menu specially curated, for the limited in awareness and the stumped in awakening.
I could feel the smoke, slowly emerging from my ears. While a steamy conversation, boiled in my head. These assumptions, though not entirely baseless. Were nonetheless annoying and insulting to me. Therefore, this was the day I decided to let it rip. I opened my cherry glossed lips, with a riled response. But then I remembered, my friend 'E’s confession the other day.
"…. Chioma, you are different and in a class of your own. First appearing like everyone else, yet intriguingly unique. I too had my assumptions and stereotypical expectations. But that was before I got to know you and be affected by your presence. So you are bound to get….'
I shut my mouth and grinned broadly instead, before walking over to the lone and fallen placard. I picked it up and joined the orchestrated mayhem? NO! I stumped on that thing so hard, with both feet. Up and down went I, as if the word bounce would go out of style in a day. Then I lifted that sucker and struck the ground with it. Ripping wooden parts, as nails flew out and up. (Hey, don’t forget I was mad). At least that is what I Imagined and hoped, I had done. The ballistic and destructive part. Now I am getting ready to go to bed and still feeling so mad….
DAY THREE: I woke up this morning with a headache! You know, from that unresolved issue yesterday. However, a bout of heavenly meditation, calmed my spiked nerves. I was reminded of purpose and re-calibrated into meaningful direction. Once again, I was set on my merry and delightful way. Why not? I knew Who made the day and I would jubilate in its duration. Merrymaking, until the sun set in the north (or wherever it usually settled). Back to that throbbing nuisance on my neck. I still needed a tablet or two, to pacify it. So off to the drug store I marched.
No sooner had I skipped over the threshold, than this loud, startling and terrifying alarm, went off. So I clicked my heels and made for the hills. For I had suspected, that Armageddon was heavily tilted towards an early arrival on planet earth. I just was not quite sure, when the trumpet announcing the face-off would sound. I was not even certain, that I was supposed to run. Maybe standing still at attention, would suffice.
Well the next overhead announcement was confirmation, that the sky had not cracked….Yet. The battle lines were still not drawn and every grave-site was still intact. “Security to aisle three please,” came the heavily accented voice. Well you know how obligated I often feel, to have a little bit of idea about what’s happening around me. Through the beautiful artistry, of being nosy and minding the business of the masses. Yes I apologize; I sometimes, mind a few random and remote nonsense.
I had just been engaged in perusing the counter, that harbored ‘mental hydration steroids’. The assortment was as exotic, as it was exhausting. But now I was curious, as to what might be going down in aisle three. Therefore, I looked up to identify my aisle. So that I could tell, which way would lead to the third one. Kind of like, do we count up? Or do we count down? Lo and behold, I was on aisle three! And looking at its vast and vacant expanse of deserted land, I was the lone woman standing in the gold mine.
Refusing to believe my eyes and ears, I attempted to add the obvious and gaping figures together. You know that can be a challenge for me, most times. But this day, I was determined to get the correct sum total of all infliction. So I added the unwelcoming yet heralding alarm, to the intrusive, interruptive and implicative announcement. And it added up to six accusatory insults too many and six hundred and sixty-six ways, that I could get mad. Then I hit the roof….
To be continued.
