Reliving my yankee experience (Conclusion)

On another day, (by this time, I had summoned the courage to go out on my own) I went to a mall in Queens. It was summer. And there was a sea of faces out and about. There was so much to see, and I don’t just mean the shops in the mall. Some of the women were scantily dressed, a man would have to make the extra effort not to be fixated at the sexy clothing the girls were wearing. Every sizeable shape of women was wearing shorts, decked in designer specs and trudging along mindful of the stares from the men.

In front of the mall, traders displayed all sorts of products, from dubbed DVD's films and recorded artiste songs to household and hardware products on the floor. After doing a bit of window shopping, I went into this particular shop. As I stood in this shop reading the back cover of the latest Sidney Sheldon masterpiece, I overheard – not that I wanted to eavesdrop, but what they were discussing was rather amusing – two African American women talking.

One of the ladies, a mixed race beauty, tall, slim with a curvy figure and a lovely smile that could melt butter, started off in a whispery voice.

“Hey, Shaniqua, see that fine brother over there? He gat a lovely behind and he cute too”
"Where he at?"

"12'o clock"
My heart began to leap with excitement when I heard this. It was as if I had just won the lottery. The drama continued. Shaniqua, a robust but er…ok, rotund babe checked me out and said: “Mmm! Mmmh! Mmmh! Brother where you been? Come to me baby. Oh! my gad, and he gat dimples too?”.

The book I held in my hand nearly slipped off to the floor. I’m glad that what she said didn’t contain “Jazz”. I was being spoken about as if I didn’t have a say in the matter. Of course, if I were to choose, the choice would have been obvious. The thoughts played in my mind. I just said nah! Their boyfriend's were probably hanging around the corner. And I didn’t want any trouble. Imagine if their boyfriend’s were Tyson look-alikes, bear chested with rippling muscles, a menacing face and gold plated tooth? I am sure they won’t entertain any “paddy in the jungle” plea from me. I would have been toast. It would have been a bad move anyway. Still, I was their trophy and they were “fighting” over me. My head began to spin with greater excitement. I was in heaven.

“Girlfriend…..puleeeeese” the mixed race babe protested. “Don’ even go there, Shaniqua. I saw him first”

Yes, Shaniqua. She saw me first. I thought to myself. Keep quiet jare. Na by force. Why don’t you join the queue? By this time, I was smiling inwardly. I checked out my clothing. It was okay. I adjusted myself and posed with a pretentious disposition. One of the employees of the shop, walked down the aisle, stopped to stack some more books on the gondola in front of me. She then turned to me and flashed me a smile.

“Do you need any help sir?”
“Oh..no. I’m fine”. Please scoot.
“Ok, lemme know if you do. That’s a good book you gat there”
"Thanks". I know. I displayed a fake smile that barely left my throat. Can you go away now please? I peeped a little as she placed the last book on the gondola and walked away. I wasn’t even sure if she genuinely came to stack some books or wanted to help with any purchase enquiries that I might have. Yet another one? Must have been my expensive after shave. Oh, what a day I was having. Where’s Halle Berry then?

“Tanisha why yu gat to be like this. Yu trippin right? Wha’ bout Tyrone?” reeled the voice of Shaniqua as I continued to listen to the drama unfolding.

Do babes actually fight over men like this? This was new and exciting. At least, I wasn't doing the chasing this time around. And the fun part was I could play hard to get. Oh! What power to wield in such a time as this.

“Tyrone jes my baby daddy. But I gat to catch me some fun. Yu gat a problem with that?" Tanisha countered.
“Jes' Tyrone? Girl, you gat three baby father’s and I ain’t gon’ let you have this one. He mine”
“Yeah, how e gon feel when e knows ya’ll on welfare sitting on yo behind all day doing jack?”

Just then, a little black boy no more than four, was whining at his mum to buy him some sweets (sorry Candy). It appeared that the mum didn’t give in to his demands, and the poor frustrated boy started crying. I felt pity for him but wanted him to stop crying. Jeez! Wrong time. Wrong place. I couldn’t even hear what was been said anymore, so I had to strain my ears to listen. Who said men don’t gossip? The only difference is I didn’t set out to fish for this information. And secondly, when men talk about it, it is called an informal discussion and exchange of thoughts.

I looked at the boy, about five feet away from me, and I wanted to just go over and tell him to hush. I couldn’t do that. Or should I just buy him the candy? Maybe that would appease him. Again, I couldn’t do that. The Mum obviously was teaching him some morals and it would be wrong of me, a stranger, to undermine her authority and the strong message she was sending out to her kid.

Another thought occurred. Should I simply move over to where the babes were and pretend I was browsing another product? But if I moved closer, they’d probably stop talking – and I didn’t want that. Suddenly the cries of the boy subsided as his mum scolded him for the first time. Mmm…some parents would have taken the kid out of sight and beaten the black out of him. Seconds later, the boy stopped crying altogether as both he and his mum left the shop. It was at this point that I rejoined the conversation.

“Whaever! Is tha’s the way gon be then?" Shaniqua asked
“Yeah, yu gat that right. I ‘mo check him out” Tanisha retorted.

Phew! I couldn’t take it any longer. A whole me from Jand, causing katakata like this in Yankee? See, if only Jand babes are a little forthcoming once in a while….... My head was so swollen that the only thing that could mess things up right now was if I tripped inadvertently and crashed into the revolving lightweight gondola that housed the books in the shop. That would be the ultimate shame.

As I placed the book back, pretending to pick up another one, I looked in their direction, hoping they were going to give me a wink – only to see them looking past me and admiring one fine guy at the back aisle. I looked over my shoulder to check out the yeye competition. And much as I hate to admit it, the competition was good. Who asked the bobo to come into the shop anyway, at the precise moment? I shook my head as to jerk my self back to reality and convince them that it was me. But it wasn’t me all along. I hurriedly walked out of the shop. The two babes had unwittingly contrived to spoil my day. I sulked big time.

Don’t you get that feeling when your holiday comes to an end, you still want it to continue? Unless of course it was a regrettable one. Well, as with all good things, there has to be an end.

On my return to London the hot weather was awaiting me. That's amusing. Isn't the weather the same acronym used to describe the British? Yes, the weather here can be unpredictable. It can be sunny one minute, raining the next, bitterly cold the next, and before you know it, hailstorms might be falling from the sky. Hence, it is true to say the British can be jovial, irritable, stand-offish, and display traits of eccentricity and buoyancy all in the space of five minutes. As we Naijas here in Jand jokingly say, it would be a shame if one were to be afflicted with the British weather syndrome.

Subsequently, the British take pride in knowing they have a sense of humour as well. Yet, I watch their sit-coms, and stand-up shows and everyone in the audience laughing at their jokes, and I'm like saying to myself "where's the joke?” Sometimes, the humour is so dry, I fail to get the meaning behind the joke and some of the adverts being shown here. And I know I'm not the only Naija, incapacitated by this tawdry drivel called comedy. Although I must concede that there are some few good comedians and sit-coms on view. But only a few.

Meanwhile, I was crossing the road the other day and noticed that, compared to Yankee roads, the roads are narrower and that the British are among the few countries in the universe that still drive on the right side of the road. As I attempted to cross the road, I noticed a car coming towards me, and I decided to walk casually. Make I hear "gbosa" and I would have hit the jackpot. I thought to myself. But as the car approached, it appeared the driver wasn’t going to slow down. Meeeen, you can’t imagine how I raced to cross to the other end of the road. We no go see "bad day, devil drink water" kind of experience. What if the driver didn’t stop? Who knew if the driver was excessively drunk or "high" after sniffing "gbana" (cocaine).

In the Bus one day, I was carrying a bit of shopping and as soon as I boarded the bus and proceeded to put my shopping in the apartment provided. Not surprisingly, the driver of the bus did not budge. He waited for me to finish unloading; waited for me to fumble within my pocket for my pass and showed it to him, before driving off.

Back in the states, I remember on numerous occasions, in a similar situation, where the bus driver will drive off whilst expecting you to come back to him to show your Metro card (or pay) after you've settled down. Maybe I should have done the same thing; sat down relaxed and take my time before I showed him my Pass.

Of course, I knew he wouldn't drive off. He would wait. And all I expected him to say, after minutes of frustration, was "Please, you haven't paid yet".

Silence. Na dog abi na goat hin dey talk to.

"'scuse me, I said you haven't paid" Silence again from me.

By this time, all the passengers were busy staring at me, thinking I'm a potential fare dodger. "Can you......", the bus driver began to protest again.

"Hey, for real, stop sweating me meeennnn! You gat a problem?"

"I said you haven't...."

"No shit. I heard you the first time, man. I 'mo show you my Pass in a minute, you know what am saying. Chill out, man".

And turning to the passengers, I said. ".... And whatcha y'all looking at? Abeg, face front, dammit".

On reflection, Britain is a bit slow paced for the lifestyle of Yankee. Somewhat pedestrian. But Yankee is without its faults too. The Yankee experience was more of an eye opener. Of course, having been there a couple more times, I am still confronted with crazy scenarios. But, I guess, where ever you lay your head at the moment, is where you call home.

Glad to be back………….for the time being, that is.