He said, she said…

Good morning people…

As usual, I had a horrible weekend. Friday wasn’t so bad… NEPA was good to me that day so we had power most of the day. It was on Saturday that the devil decided that he didn’t like that I was almost smiling.

“How dare she almost smile?!” he roared. “I must put an end to this at once!! If we don’t take our time, she might actually smile or, even worse… BE HAPPY!!!”

*collective gasp from Ghadaffi, Hitler and MJ*

“We must not let that happen! Quick,” satan continued, “call Prof.”

“His nastiness, which Prof should we call?” Whitney asked.

“Call Nedu… Prof Nebo. Tell him to cut power supply to that area. Then call her landlord… say anything to get him upset so that he can call her and transfer his aggression.”

“But, your evilship, why don’t we just call her ourselves?” Abacha asked.

“No, we can’t call her.” said satan, “Unless we port, she’s not going to answer any calls from unknown MTN numbers… and that is our network of choice.”

So, I got a call from the landlord. He was pissed because he heard the carpenters were not working… the carpenters said they couldn’t work because there was no wood… and nobody said anything to me about needing wood the day before. Then the landlord’s brother showed up and gave me hell as well and I was tempted to kick him so far that he lands in the Brazilian rain forest, where he can get an unending supply of wood.

Eventually, I snuck upstairs to see if I could jump off the balcony and kill myself hide from the landlord’s brother, just to get some peace and quiet… I was in my brother’s old room, looking at the sky (I told you the ceiling caved in), when I overheard the carpenters talking on the roof.

They were talking about me!!!

They said a lot, but the summary of it all is that;

  1. I think I know too much.
  2. Oversabi dey worry me.
  3. Serves me right for getting yelled at.

I was hurt… not surprised, not angry, just hurt. I’ll tell you why they said all this…

I do everything myself. I fuel the gen myself, organize water, clean the house, cook… everything. The only thing I can’t do is get on a bike with a gallon to buy fuel… but I have a bike man who does that for me. I also have another guy who gets drinking water for me. Basically, I run this motha!!!

Then the carpenters came. They watched me for a few days and after that, the head carpenter (the Lagbaja wannabe) called me and asked why I don’t ask them to help me with little things around the compound… He said that they would be happy to help me if I needed it. I appreciated the offer and I thanked him but, as is my nature, I didn’t trust it.

I’m so proud that I would rather die by electrocution while changing a bulb, than ask a man to do it for me. I can’t stand the sight of their balls swelling whenever a woman asks them for help.

Anyway, I still didn’t ask them for help with anything… so they decided to do stuff on their own. Whenever they see that I wanna fuel the gen, they come and take the jerrycan from me and do it themselves. They didn’t let me do any heavy lifting. They helped me fill the water drum and when it rained, they cleaned up the water in all the rooms upstairs.

I won’t lie… I enjoyed it while it lasted. Life was easier. And I made sure I thanked them every time they did something for me. But I also made sure I never asked directly. Instead, I would just carry the jerrycan or bucket or whatever and act like it weighed 1000 tonnes… I’ll sigh, wipe non-existent sweat from my fore head and grimace, till one of them comes and does it for me.

One day, after the carpenter helped me bring in a mattress that was drying outside, I said thank you as usual. Then he said, “You no know say you keep foam for outside? So if we no dey, na so this foam for sleep outside?”

His question pissed me off, but I was in a good mood that day. The next day, I asked one of his workers to call him and that one said, “abeg, you too dey disturb person o.”

You can’t imagine my outrage!

And that was how the favours ended… I stopped letting them do things for me, even when they offered. There was no beef, no bad blood or anything… I just decided that the best way to avoid getting insulted was to go back to doing my shit myself.

And that’s why they said all the things they did on Saturday. I haven’t been able to relate with them properly since I overheard them. I can’t smile with them or exchange light banter like before… I’m acting like they do not exist. This morning, the carpenter asked if there was a problem between us and since I couldn’t tell him that his balls have gotten too big, I just said we’re fine. Of course he didn’t buy it… he knows something is wrong.

Their work here is almost done… and I really can’t wait for them to get the fuck outta my house.

Bloody wankers!

Now, I’ve exceeded my limit… I’ll gist you about Sunday in another post. Maybe tomorrow…

Have a lovely week people :-*

10 thoughts on “He said, she said…

  1. This is so hilarious. I was tired and feeling sleepy at work after a long and hectic weekend when I bumped into your blog and trust , immediately i finished reading, I laughed so well and wondered how a wonderful relationship with the carpenters went sour….. keep it up …. enjoying your write ups… Now back to work……. SLEEP DON DISSAPPEAR

    • Thanks darling… I’m glad you enjoyed it. Don’t mind those silly men… God only knows what else they’ve said before. And the best part is, I don’t care!!! I just want them gone…
      I hope you’re feeling better today.
      Now get back to work!!!

      xo

  2. Hmmm… I feel ur ‘pain’, but ppl will always be ppl I guess so it’s a case of stomaching it until u can get them out of ur hair… Not to say though that they’re all like that! As for the swelling balls whenever a woman asks for help, erm… I guess one just has to know who and when to ask for help… I’m curious though at if u’d ask a woman for help and if it’d be any better?

    • I’ve said a lot worse about them so I guess it’s not so bad…
      Yeah, I would ask a woman for help, depending on who and when. It would be a million times easier.
      Besides, I wouldn’t see her internal balls swelling so it won’t pain me 😀

  3. Babe, sowee on the sheety weekend. Forget them losers…in a short time you will have a roof and you’ll never have to see them again. They don’t deserve any emotion – anger, annoyance; least of all hurt.

  4. #bighug# don’t mind us with our expandable balls. They distend, retract & more recently make WAJE’s new hit sound like the real Macoy! Which it is anyway.

    Do have a swell week dear.

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