MY YORUBA DEMON

Yes it was a Sunday and no I did not go to church. It felt like a Sunday however, Sundays always have a feel to them and this one was filled with that feel. My beans-seller costumer was not out yet, and I was very hungry, she probably went to church or took a well deserved day off. I walked all round to find something to eat, anything, but the future was bleak. I started my way back home, as I took the turn to my house, I spotted a bread seller in a lone convoy approaching. God is indeed good to us all, including non church goers. As she dropped the bread tray on the ground.

A Mercedes G-Wagon parked in front of us, spraying a good amount of dust on the bread. "What a fool" I cursed out loud. He didn't hear me. "Hello Beautiful" he said with a cunning smile, it knocked me out. "Hey" I remembered to reply. "I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to the bread seller". What! Nooo...not on a Sunday, this guy just fired open shots at me, point blank and left me to just die. "You are beautiful too" he added sarcastically, leaving me to die a second death. I locked up, put on my mean face and focused on my packaged agege bread. "Hi, I'm Lanre" he extended a handshake while still seated in the car. Oh my God. Behold my judgment day is come, Yoruba demons are after me. I stood there, log wood stiff, ignoring the swag out of him, his hands were almost freezing I believe, but he wouldn't mind, his confidence already seemed over the top, too much. As soon as I got my change from the bread seller, I turned to leave. "Oh hey, you're just gonna ignore me like that?" He raised his voice, now his feet touched the ground for the first time. "Oh, I thought you were talking to the bread seller" I fired back at him, and kept walking, knowing my bullets were much milder than he's. He walked after me, chasing me rather, I couldn't help but notice his crystal white baban Riga, and those brown Italian shoes were simply enviable. "I was just playing with you dear, you know I was talking to you. Uhm, can I get your phone number? Maybe call you later?" He sounded really cool, I mean really ice meltingly cool. I had to consciously stop myself from screaming my digits out. "I don't do playing" I replied with a smile, which he couldn't see from my back tho, but he saw it. "You have a beautiful smile" he gushed. He is really a demon, how did he know I was smiling.  "Why are you pacing me? "
"I want what I want"
"I'm not going to give it to you"
"Baby. Give it to me"
"No."
"Please"
It was almost like we were writing a song. I was kinda mentally jotting down some lyrics, you don't get to have good conversations like that everyday.
"I want to give you my number but pride won't let me"
"Pride, Ok"
He turned to go.
Wow.
"Wait, zero eight one, three six"
I noticed that he stopped and was typing. It was time to get a good laugh out of this whole thing .
"Bla bla bla bla" I continued
"Shit!, why are you so mean?"
I could tell he was enjoying my company. And I knew I was enjoying he's. I  really hope to see him again.