The Wake Up Call
The other day, I saw one of old school mates I used to play pranks with and it got me thinking about my life and the dreams I had neglected due to lack of money and more, like of dedication on my part. Unlike me who was waiting in the sun for the one of the cheap “sole” buses to pass by, my friend was driving her very own 2014 BMW; the third of her babies as she had said. When the car had stopped by my side, I had been thinking of how to play ignorance if the driver asked for direction. Not that I was bitter as you may have thought, it is just annoying that car owners usually presume bus hoppers like me knew every route. I’ll be in the sun waiting to for a bus that will be shield me from the scalding heat for a while and someone in a fine ass ride, AC blowing will just stop me and ask me where that bus stop is. I just look and shrug; playing deaf and dumb. If they could afford such expensive cars, GPS should not be a problem.
As I was saying before I digressed, my friend got down from the car and gave me a really fierce hug that almost pushed me inside the gutter. I was going to pour the annoyance of the heat on her but I stopped when she screamed my nickname. No one had called me “Pringles” since my university days and even then, only few people did. I drew back and recognized her, it was Yetunde; the scrawniest of my friends except she had added flesh in the right places and she was looking so radiant. She wore a black statement tee with “I’m A Go-Getter” wriiten on it on a blue ripped jean and a pair of brogues on her feet. Her aviator glasses was placed on a wavy black weave-on that could have been mistaken for her hair except for the length. Her makeup was so simple yet classy and was intact unlike that had been smeared by my hands trying to wipe sweat off my face. I felt suddenly so conscious and wished I had worn something more classy than my pair of faded jeans, sweatshirt and slippers.
I consciously used my hand to put loose tendrils of my hair back and wished I had made the long overdue trip to the salon I had been postponing because I was a bit broke. Yetunde, being her usual over friendly, always chatty and smiling, she volunteered to take me in her ride to wherever I was going to so we could play catch up. I wanted to jump at the offer, if not for anything but for the artificial cooling machine but I refused because I was so ashamed of myself. How could I allow her drop me at the shop where I work as a sales girl after all the times in school I had bragged I was going to be my own boss at 25. I was nearing 30 and not even close to having a good job. Gosh, what went wrong with me? What happened to that girl with life plans and the zeal to be a better person?
Yetunde was too happy to have noticed my discomfort. She pushed her card in my hand when I told her I was waiting for an imaginary fiance to pick me up. She wanted to talk, she wanted to play catch up and see what more pranks I had up my sleeves since I left school. I just smiled and promised her a call. Watching her as she drove, I could feel the tears burning, threatening to be free from their confines. I could not even bear to look at the card, I dumped in my worn out hand bag. Work; no longer on my mind. I suddenly felt so ashamed of myself; ashamed enough to fix myself. I turned back and started walking back to my one room apartment. It was time for me to pick up that forgotten journal and start working towards achieving my goal. If Yetunde the scrawny, not so brilliant kid could do, why couldn’t I. It was high time I bid farewell to mediocrity and started living as the more I was created to be…