Yeah, I know. I probably DESERVE what happened to me this weekend. I think I willed it to happen. Not less than 6 hours after my previous entry, a weird series of events unfolded, once again prompting my friends to ask, ‘Why is it always you?!”
So, there I was, working, silently fuming that my boss was a good 3 HOURS LATE, and then she shows up, and can’t even APOLOGIZE for burning my Saturday morning, just so she’ll be the first to leave 2 and a half hours later. We all leave pretty quickly after she does. Its 4pm. And I’m thinking, if I’m smart I could get my hair done today. So I withdraw some cash, hop on a bus to Ojuelegba, and by 4.40, I’m in Yaba. Why did I go to Yaba to do my hair? Beats me.
This is when things get funky. I come across a helpful enough woman who helps me decide what to do with my hair, just so she’ll get the job of doing it. I don’t mind. Then as we’re searching for a particular colour of attachment, I notice her yell (insult) some other woman in red. Whatever. We get to her shop to wash my hair, and for some reason, this woman in red is still silently there. From the little Yoruba I understand, I figure the woman thinks she called me first. An interesting theory considering as I’d never even seen her before. The whole time my hair is being washed, my hairdresser is spitting fire and brimstone in Yoruba at this silent pest. Okkk.
I go to dry my hair, and completely forget about it, until I finish ten minutes later, step out and …
She’s STILL THERE. Talk about CREEPY.
We get outside again, where the dresser’s daughter and her friend are already setting up the attachment. I sit down. The woman is about to start, and then the other woman brings out a comb and launches on my hair. I’m a little disturbed by this. The dresser attacks lady in red and tells her to back off. I stand up and curtly tell Lady In Red that I didn’t call her, that she should please respect herself. She acts like I didn’t speak. Attempt #2 to do my hair ensues. Same thing. This time, my dresser slaps Lady in Red’s hand away. And resumes her yelling. After a 3rd attempt, the woman’s daughter attempts to do my hair instead, while her mother stood to block the other woman, this time taking her comb. We have an audience. I sigh, simultaneously amused and exasperated. It’s past 5, and the day isn’t getting any younger. Attempt #4. Lady in Red snatches the attachment, my dresser loses it, and shoves her full throttle. The daughter and friend try to stop her.
Then, black sitcom style, my dresser starts taking off her jewelry (and they were much). Another full blown attack ensues, and pandemonium appears to be breaking loose. Apparently Lady in Red did this the day before. She tells me, it’s either 2 of them do the hair, or not at all. Ths is a woman old enough to be my mother. At this point, I start trying to leave. The daughter quietly tells me to act like I’m going, and she’ll come and take me to their house nearby. I do this, but when I get outside, I realize Lady in Red is FOLLOWING me like some 10 feet away. I stop, she stops. After 5 minutes, I full-out vex, and start asking her if she’s off her rocker. She calmly tells me that I can’t let the other woman do my hair. Shio.
I have to start doing some James Bond runs, ducking in between cars, and just going back into Tejuosho and cutting corners till I lost the crazy hag. I FINALLY get back to the original chick. And start my hair at 6. It was ridiculous. To add to this, there was a monster rain storm, and we were kinda outside, so I basically half-froze to death. All the while chanting, ‘The Road to Beauty is Long and Painful…’ On the upside, the woman was an entertaining gossip, and I laughed the entire 2 ½ hours. Her son joined in the braiding, and was nice enough to help me get a bus home after. All’s well, right?
Sunday, me and my 2 girls got together for the first time in yonks and went to the mall to hang out. We bought too much food, and went to B’s car to eat. It was fun. I lost my ATM card though. Ah well, I was going to close that account anyway. We went to A’s crib in Ajah, and I felt a little jealous. It was cute. But it’s location bites sha. We found a lizard in the toilet. I kid you not. And A has a mortal fear of reptiles. She was almost in tears. I was too creeped out too, so B had to drown it in Dettol, Harpic and tissue by herself. We probably flushed that toilet like 20 times in 30 minutes before it disappeared. I know A was taumatised. An hour after we left, she still sent a text about it.
Fascinating end to an odd weekend, I’d say. Even though, as my sis, and B said, I instigate confusion and anger. 🙂