A scene I found quite amusing just played out in a popular shopping mall a few days ago.
A pretty lanky lady had been on the long queue to be attended to by the cashier.
As luck would have it, she was right before me.
I watched as she shifted from one leg to another, flipping her blonde curls about as she kept looking here and there, chewing aggressively on the gum between her teeth, fiddling desperately on the groceries sprawled out in the cart she held with her admirable nails.
“Anu e se mi” I mused underneath my breath.
Now, candidly, the cashier on that very queue was a snail.
Everything about her spelt sluggishness.
And just when everyone was fighting with their.. I mean our wits to keep our cool,
“Please can you fast quickly? I must be on the toilet to hint myself now.”
Her screaming in such endangered phonetics suddenly threw the whole mall in an unrepentant silence with various eyes resting on her.
I tell you, she must have felt like a heroine rescuing us all from the delay by being our voice.
That’s because she did not stop at that.
She proceeded untill she finally became the movie star of the moment.
“Oooh gosh! I am so depressed already!” She exclaimed holding her tummy in a crouching manner.
“Habba, aunty. Depressed or you’re pressed!’ Came a teenage girl’s voice. May God never allow you to be depressed o.”
Roars of laughter followed.
Now, I couldn’t really discern how she must have felt but I just saw her shoving the cart of her goods aside.
She brushed a young guy violently with her shoulders and broke into a run past the security post.
Shouts of mockery rented the air, “Eh! Eh! Hold am o…Make e no go shit inside your flower o…”
Two security men were already at her heels as laughter was colliding and competing with laughter.
Then I knew, of whatever, she must truly be depressed!
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