Operation Crush Squashed!

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Firstly, Jollof Rice is a binsh! No apologies *straight face*

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I noticed him staring at me from the minute I crossed over to enter that Yaba bus. He was seated on the second seat beside the Drivers’. I couldn’t pay him more than a flicking minute of my attention because I was too excited knowing that I won’t be late for classes. Ten minutes into the journey, the heavy stare plagued my mind again, this time making as much impression as Chicken Flu in December. He looked familiar, and then it struck me that he was the guy I had been admiring in class the previous day. I smiled.

I thought it was no more than a random stare or glance from the guy in the bus, only to find him some steps away looking back at me every now and then after we had stopped at the same junction minutes ago. And then I became self conscious. It couldn’t be the beauty, surely his ogling skills knew better. Neither could it be the curves, because the short black girl has got none to spare. Was it the dress? There was nothing to the skirt and blouse I had on. I had never spoken to him or had contact with him before that morning. So why the picky interest?

We got into the class, and with glee, I picked my favorite seat (LOL! For y’all that read HIM, no it’s not that same spot. Catch up guys! ;)). Not that I was watching him, but I fleetingly noticed the object of my confused thoughts had gone to fix himself somewhere behind. I saved my seat and went out to get some snacks for my peace, and on coming back, the ‘object’ had moved his bag beside mine. Whao! Is it ‘pay day’ today? I wasn’t sure what it was really about his stare, but it felt refreshing that it pulled him into my corner still.

So, halfway into lectures and dude spares at least every five seconds to stare at me or my note. How so sweet eh? I borrowed his note to copy some detail I missed and boy, he’s got some cute writing. That was when I sighted his nails and I almost went gaga (yeah, long cute nails. Except the other hand had dirty unfiled nails, but hey, it was pardonable).

We made small joke every now and then and when break set in, I was sure I was gonna miss his company. Thinking back now, rushing through my pack of jollof rice and moin- moin with hopes that the one hour break will lapse soon enough must have been my undoing. Once the break was over, my stomach started to feel funny. I thought it was just a passing second, but I sadly realized too late that it had come to stay. I felt the urge to fart every one minute, but being in a huge class with seats filled with about four to five people and my crush seated right beside me with the distance of a hair’s breadth, I decided the farts could wait. Hell nur! I thought the worst that could be was farting silently and having the smell disturb the senses of everyone present, but I was wrong; because unknown to me the gas was mounting in my stomach, and before long, my stomach had made a disturbing sound track in thirty minutes, loud enough to awake the dead maybe. Gah! And that was how the crush operation, was well um, squashed. 😦

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PS: No, I didn’t fart eventually. A girl’s got some pride to save eh? Loool! So if it were you in this ‘dilemma’, what would you do? Plus why the heck do guys ogle?! Eew.

#teamScopophobic #teamShygirl

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© The Short Black Girl, 2015.

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I am.

I am the crack,

And the patch,

The hole,

That bares a ghost of light.

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The stretch

The break

The pieces,

That frenzy together before your very sight,

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I am the pain that was,

The heart that won,

The fighter, the struggler,

That rose above it all.

© The Short Black Girl, 2014.