On Twitter, Dame Valuta is my one and only wife. No contest. All side chicks duly acknowledged. In real life, though, she is married to this nice dude called Nick. Dame, Nick and I have an understanding: Nick doesn’t mess with our Twitter status, and I don’t mess with the flesh-and-blood status. Dame gets to eat her cake and have it. Everybody’s happy. Hopefully. Contrary to what many who follow my Twitter Line may think, as in love as Dame and I are, we have never met in person. Scratch that. We have never set eyes on one another outside of zooming one another’s display pictures and drooling. We both need to get a life; right? I hear you.
Well, today, for the very first time, I met my Cheri Coco. Errr, sort of sha. Here’s what happened. I fell asleep from fatigue some hours ago. During that nap, I had a vivid dream. I was driving home with a mix of family/friends in the car. You know how dreams can be. Someone was pressed and needed to go, so I pulled over at a facility so she could take care of her business. While waiting in the car, I sensed the need to go too, so I got out of the car and headed into the building. Lo and behold, hanging out with a few others were Dame and Nick! I saw Dame first and recognized her immediately. What do you expect? That figure and those raunchy eyes of hers are unmistakable. If my daughter is to be believed, Dame and I have similar eyes. My daughter calls them “snake eyes”. One Twitter girlfriend who calls me her aristo refers to such eyes as “Oju come-and-do” (literally, “eyes that seduce”). I shall be merciful to her and not give away her name. The interesting thing is, my wife agrees about the “Oju come-and-do” thing. Sigh.
Anyway, Dame looked up, saw me and pulled a book over her face in one swift move! Never mind that the book appeared out of nowhere. Its a dream after all. Why did she do that? Were my “come-and-do” eyes that overpowering and she needed to behave in the presence of Nick? Please help me ask her. Anyway, there was Nick standing close by. As is required of an Affiliate member of the association of polyandrous men when in the presence of “his Fellow”, I hailed him first as I headed his way. He turned, saw me, broke into a broad smile and began to approach. Awkward that here I was facing “the owner”, I didn’t want to be too forward, so I deferred and stretched my hand. The jolly good fella drowned me in a hug o! Almost choked the life out of me! Now, whether or not his intention was to choke me remains to be ascertained. If I were in his shoes, it wouldn’t be a bad idea! As the real owner, getting rid of the virtual competition in as friendly and harmless a manner as possible would be real fine and grand.
Anyway, Nick and I stood there, exchanging some banter for a while, and I complemented him about how our wife is doing a good job feeding him. Seriously, that was one healthy looking fella. Not round. No irritating pot belly. Yet, fresh and with healthy flesh and muscle in all the right places. Kudos, Dame!! Nick responded though by telling me not to mind “that woman”. Suave guy like I am… Wait. Which one is this big grammar I am speaking?? Sharp guy (that sounds more like it; right?) like me, I quickly urged him to send her packing jare. Of course, my motives were very, very far from pure. Who no like better thing?! He should just send her packing. I have ideas of what to do about that scenario. But trust my people from that side of Nigeria. Nick himself is a proper sharp guy. He didn’t take the bait. Send packing ko; send to the moon ni. He didn’t even break a sweat or acknowledge that I said anything.
Anyway, having followed due protocol in acknowledging the owner first, I turned around to look for our mutual wife, Dame. I wanted some of those sugarlicious hugs and kisses that our Twitter audience are so used to seeing. But she was nowhere in sight. She was gone! There was no trace of Dame in that room. Nick had no idea either. Just then, I was beginning to be pulled out of that dream back into the world of reality, and my eyes spied the door leading to the conveniences. For some reason, my mind strayed to that story about Dame and Farouk. You know what role the toilet played in that drama. Or you don’t. I noticed the expression on Nick’s face as he fixed his eyes on the toilet door too. Could Dame be pulling a Farouk right under the noses of both of us?
Then, I was awake.
Yes; you noticed too, abi? I didn’t get to meet Dame at all. Bummer.
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