“I swear to God, Seun, if you made me wear makeup for nothing I will beat you like an angry kangaroo.”
Sometime last year, I wrote this to Seun. Seun is one of closest friends in the world. He is also a giving, kind individual. I would rather die than relate to him calmly. It’s just insults after insults daily. We thrive on it. So, of course, when we had somewhere to go and all of a sudden, his messages aren’t delivering and his number is switched off…. I was livid. I was livid because of my makeup.
One of last year’s resolutions was to become a lot more proficient in my makeup use; to break out of the shell of just foundation and powder and unlock the secrets behind highlighting, contouring, baking, setting, priming(?). I had bought them all and slowly started learning to do them all but boyyyy did it take time! Had to be an hour at least. Even though I have always admired how these ladies go about doing makeup every bloody day… the time, the dedication. Whilst me I am planning on getting up 15 minutes before I need to step out, they are up at the crack of dawn, to have enough time and steady fingers to do their faces… whilst my dont-give-a-fuck ass rolls out of bed, does a 10 minutes bathe, wears clothes and rushes out. That’s a lie. Picking out clothes is the beign of my existence and can take FOREVER! But that’s another matter. My behind the scenes practical knowledge unlocked a new level of admiratiom for how coordinated they have to be everyday to get to work made up and on time.
Now, imagine spending an hour on said makeup, 30 minutes fighting with your wardrobe and thennnnn, the person you’re supposed to go with phone is off. I saw red. He eventually came.
A reader commented that she wanted to read on my first fight with Eggman and I, for the life of me couldn’t think up a scene that would have me so upset that it would take a rise our me. And then I remembered.
Eggman and I haven’t seen of late and I’m not asking him any questions. I mean, its not my money been spent so why will I be making demands? Just as well, my wardrobe needed a breather before I started having to repeat. He called on sunday and I heard something along the lines of “I bought something for you. I wont be going to work on Monday, I have meetings lined up. I’ll come pick you up in the evening, 8 o’ clock good?.”
Monday was a mess of a day, I had so much to do. By the time, I went upstairs to take a bathe, it was 7.45pm. I begged the Lagos traffic spirit to do their thing and apparently they did because by 8.30, I hadn’t still gotten a call… Highly irregular. By 8.45pm I was done crossing t’s and highlighting in discretion so I put a call through.
He didnt pick.
I didn’t see red… not yet.
He called back. I asked him how he was, he said he had been taken to a chinese restaurant by a client. “He asked if I had dinner plans after the meeting and I almost shouted my ‘No'” he said, “Now i don’t need to stress about what to eat tonight. He says its the most authentic chinese restaurant in Lagos, not like I would know the difference, he’s the chinese one.” He laughed at his joke and continued “but I’m so full. I’ve crossed my limit and now it’s like I’m been stuffed for Christmas.”
A faint tint of pink, filmed my vision.
“Are we still going out?” I asked, as I struggled to keep my angry emotions in check and out of my voice.
There was a short terse silence and then he echoed, “out?”
“Yes, out. You said we were going out tonight.”
Another terse silent and then a “no, wait!” The line fell dead. I released a deep breathe of anger and took a deeper breathe of resignation. I looked at my made up face in the mirror. What a waste. My phone began to vibrate and I picked it up. He apologised profusely. He had just planned to come by, see me, chat and give me what he bought. He didn’t know he had said ‘go out’. “It’s fine,” my mouth said and I really was. It had happenned already, why cry over spilt milk? “I’m still coming, we can still go out,” he said. “Nah… it’s already late, just go home. I need to wash my face.” That opened another gate of apologies. I just wanted to cut the phone, wash my face and eat before someone took the last chicken. Instead, I had to be understanding of his sorriness, I had to make him feel better for wasting my time and makeup… life is amazing. “It’s fine eggman, for real. Just break down in communication. But you’ll have to bear with me if I double and triple check anything you tell me.” I still don’t know if that was a joke or a warning.
We reverted to regular chit-chat and then. I didnt hear something he said and he commented about cleaning me out my ears. I took this as an added quip to the “incident”. I stopped him before the words hit the ground. “Just because I’m not sounding upset about this doesn’t mean I’m not.”
Full glare red.
Something nin our regular chatty dynamix is different but I’m in my don’t-give-a-fuck feels… since I’m also partially deaf, let the one with good ears fix it. 😑