So out of the blues, Mr. Mo suggested that Mobility staff members meet up just to hang out over cups of ice cream. The suggested rendezvous was Ice cream Factory at Victoria Island… Hello! This girl does not move near that part of town unless it on the date’s bill, daddy’s bill and or we just want to go sight-seeing. This girl has chosen only to cross that bridge when she begins to chop from the pockets of all the big Guns in this city. Anyway, trust my Ijebu genes (they lack decorum) to kick in. I was the first to lash out a big fat “NO! Let’s do KFC.” Part of me wanted them close by – and don’t you dare conclude that it was because I didn’t have transport money. Haba! My level never reduced to that one.
So it was decided: KFC it is. I automatically concluded that I was the only girl on the team, and decided that coming late was part of the package. I didn’t want them thinking I hadn’t seen ice cream before. I don’t know what time I got there, but I got there in one piece and they were all waiting for me. It was a shock to see another female there too! See my life!
I met Patrick:
And Omo (my rival!) *wails*:
And the brains behind this sheet I am writing on Mr. Mo:
When it was time for the cream, I took a hit for my tacky suggestion and we decided to relocate to the very Ice Cream factory that I had previous blasted. And so we did. Guess what? I was the first to gulp down the ice cream. Yes; it was shameless. Good thing was they all didn’t notice (or they decided to act dumb). Anyway, we talked phones, industry and business. Oh, we told tales too! Tales of growing up and refusing to grow up. Things like that.
Then it was time to scat. The gracious Mr. Mo offered to drop me off, but the traffic from Jibowu towards Mushin was hellish. Or something close. But, I didn’t want to keep him waiting so I suggested that we went through Ikorodu Road. I would have stopped at Onipanu, but the conversation was great and my skin wasn’t in a hurry to exchange the soft cooling of the car air conditioning for the harsh Lagos breeze. Finally, at Obanikoro, I blew kisses at everyone and alighted. That was when it dawned on me that I didn’t know what bus to take to get home. *Enter sound track*
I scanned the area for any Okada, but it was clear that the fear of Uncle Fash was strong. Keke Marwa nko? E no dey. I Googled. No way. Found nothing. Then, I started the long trek home, me and my thoughts. As I began to soak in the events of the day, my mind wondered to the prices MTN had offered those who wanted to take on the app developer challenge and then it hit me, “What if I had an app for what bus to take?” All you need to do is tell it your current location and final destination. Based on that it will guide you as to what transport bus or buses to take, with details of bus stops along your route. Anything is possible in the world of mobile; right? Right!
Dear Mr. Mo, how is this for a total deliverance from Writer’s paralysis? Somebody please say, Amen! Hey if you have a car, DON’T READ this. Okay, you probably have read it up to this point. But please, no hate comments. I’ll be riding a car soon too someday, you know. Also, if you are taking part in the MTN App Challenge competition, you owe me half the prize money if you use the million dollar idea that I have just dropped in your lap.
Oh, yes; and this was me:
See that smile? I’m not sot sure whether it was in anticipation of the ice cream or in satisfaction after gulping it down. But who cares? Hit me up on Twitter. It’s still @toperants.
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