*LONG POST ALERT* Blame it on Temite...
ah! corporate ke? I broke out in cold sweat, my palm started to get sweaty. I wanted to pee and poo at the same time. This has not happened to me since Jamb days men. The tin do me like serious exam fever. The corporate building itself seemed to mock me as i looked at it from the highway. My overactive imagination was f**king with my mind seriously. It looked like the building was sticking its tongue out at me, and all the other motorist were shaking their head at me in pity and disappointment. Okay snap out of it OJ. You have done nothing wrong. Your innocence should vindicate you. Once again images of those FBI torture scenes crept into my mind. You know the kinds where they torture you into confessing things that are beyond your wildest imagination just for the pain to stop. Kai! Which kain wahala be dis nau?
I entered the building, and as I entered the elevator en route to the 13th floor, I prayed out loud. While praying, a conversation with a friend of mine asking me to come to church, and me responding that I'll come on Sunday(The Sunday that never came). She had said that I did not want to be one of those people who 'cling to their religion' when they have problems, or sleep in church when they need something from God. I prayed to God for forgiveness, promising him to become a church worker if he would save me from myself. I'm sure the man upstairs must have found my prayer amusing, as did the young Middle Eastern chic that stepped into the elevator without my knowledge during my 'skabashing'. If I wasn't scared shitless, I might have laughed out load at myself. Again, my more sane side rationalized that all I had to do was tell the truth, so why was I freaking myself out?
"Ms oj.. oj...ew... I'm sorry, i didn't mean to butcher your name. I'm Sarah Whitfield, LP Manager"
"Hi, that's alright, you can call me OJ, everyone else does"
"Thank you. That sounded so easy. I wouldn't mind that at all. This way please, we'll make this short, I promise" She said.
If the set up of her office was supposed to alleviate some of my worry, it did the extreme opposite. Her office was bland and cold. t must have been at least 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Nothing homely about it. Her walls were grey. It reminded me of prison walls, the kind I was gonna get thrown into, if they found anything shady about my 'story'. Okay OJ, remember, no negative thoughts... whoooosaaaa!
"Bob told me he was at your branch on Friday. He also told me that you mentioned not knowing the individual conducting the transaction. For your 'convenience', we have enhanced the image, and I apologize for the inconvenience" She said, with a tight smile. Her smile did nothing for my screwy mind.
"No problem at all, I wouldn't mind taking another look to see if anything jumps out at me" I said
"If you wouldn't mind, thank you very much" She says, hitting the remote simultaneously.
We watch the tape, and still nothing. She shows me another one, this time, it's a woman conducting the transaction. This one confused me even more. I felt like I was watching a bad movie. I tried to look at the perpetrators closely, to determine anything even remotely Naija about them. Don't ask me why I immediately thought Naija. I'm ashamed of it, but what was I to think. There was no sound, so I had to watch for any naija swagger. I looked through the files in my head and came up with nothing. Nothing.
" OJ, I hate to tell you this, but this started last month, and we hired a private investigator, who's been watching your every move. We found that you do know this individual, in fact, you have been over at his house at 20802 Overly Ct. Greenbelt...."
Yep! You guessed it.... Mutherfucking Olanrewaju McDaniels. I was gonna kill that sunnuvabitch...
I told Sarah, that I did infact know the 'individual' (funny I called him that, seeing as we were way past individual). We were VERY intimate. I also said, that i'd cooperate in efforts to capture the bastard and bring him and his female 'associate' to justice. In the meantime, Sarah informed me that I was being put on indefinite administrative leave, pending the investigation. Great! As per naija chic, I had to think fast. There were a number of things going through my head
1. Do I tell Jason (My Whitie BF) the truth about my getting fired? Leaving out the fact that a fraudster has been double dipping in his cookie jar? He had to know some truth seeing as Provident's idea of Admin leave actually meant Leave Without Pay
2. If I needed a character witness, who the heck was I gonna call given my next plan of action? Kike had gotten religion (Born again)I really didn't want to lie to her. She knew me too well. Come to think of it, this was her fault. If she hadn't moved up north, I would have had someone to occupy my time, not that I still wouldn't have done some undercover runs. He was the HOD of the Pipe-laying department.. you can take that to the bank;-) You know, that guy that has you swearing in seven different languages, and thanking Sweet Baby jeezus all in the same sentence. He was that good.
3. Where do I get a ski mask and a murder weapon?
I left Sarah's office, numb, and grateful to God that I wasn't a jailbird. I didn't tell anyone about this stuff. I'm just secretive like that. I don't like people all up im my bizness. I had however left a note, for my BF in my pillow case, in the event that I got arrested (I'm full of Drama, I know, but what can I say? I got it from my mama- see
Dreams fall apart). I was so full of rage at this bastard. I got home, changed my shoes, and headed back out. Like I said, I just knew I was gonna kill that nucca...
I arrive at his crib on Overly street, mad as hell, I went to work on the 'love of his life'. The alarm went off but I was not hearing it. All I heard was a loud hissing noise. The kind that you hear when water hits a pan of hot oil. My insides were on fire, my shoulders wracked with sobs, but my tears, mixed with the heavy rain, did not console me. It just served to anger me some more. I cry easily, and I really hate myself for it. I put garden shears into his tires. I went to work on his sun roof, smashing it in. I found a nice jagged stone, and imprinted '419' on all sides of his infinity. I wrote 'You are going down' on his trunk. I really wanted to smash in all his windows, but I wanted him to sit in his soaking wet seats without warning. Just as I was about getting into my car, headed home, his front door opened, leaving me to watch in horror as Laura was trying to stick her tongue down Lanre's throat. I reconsidered my element of surprise. I picked up Jason's Alpha Phi Alpha baton and proceeded to bust his windows.
I was so blinded by rage, when Laura approached me, screaming 'Oh my God, somebody call the popo, the bitch's gone crazy' I swung the baton at her face, and just kept going. Lanre was busy dialing 911, while simultaneously holding me back. The damage was already done. I swung at him wildly, hearing the approaching sirens somewhere in the distance.
Not until I found myself in 'Rolex', sitting in the owner's corner of the PG County police cruiser, did it hit me. I was gonna be taking a 'passport photo' at the police precinct just because of a few nights of fun. It really wasn't worth going to jail for. Laura lay unconscious, bleeding from her head, dark red liquid seeped out, hitting the tar and giving it a more sinister hue of red, I couldn't help but wish it were this sunnofabitch laying there. At least, I'd have some street credibility with my new colleagues at the 'pent house'.
THE END!* I really needed to finish this story anyways. Some other things have been on my mind, and I've been unable to write them.
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