It was a cold wintry day.
Abeg wetin you dey talk? This sun was not for small children!
Hard as I tried, I couldn't concentrate on what my boss was saying.
'This man is short-tempered, but if you impress him, you can meet your target in one month from his deposits alone. You know what that means right? No smeh-smeh or any ...'
Please. One. Drop. Of. Water. Stop. Talking. It's. Making. My. Head. Ache.
'OK sir'.
'I won't be coming in with you'. Hmm! See setup! 'Oh ok. Oga you have another meeting, and want to save time abi?'
'Yes,' he grabbed at the out I gave him like a rat looking for the nearest exit. 'It's on the next street, so once you're ready, buzz me and I'll have the pool car come get you'.
What. Ever.
'Ok. See you in about 30 mins'
....
Not a shabby office.
'I'm here to see Mr. Dafe. Please tell him I'm colleague to Jide, Marketing Manager at Evergreen Bank. Here's my card'.
Madam Receptionist eyed the card like it had measles, scrutinised me (perhaps to see if I'd hidden my scandalous clothes somewhere underneath the well covered outfit I had on).
'Can I please have some water?'
'Do I look like a water dispenser? Mschew.'
Na wa. See venom. Hater! The only thing that saved her from a nasty verbal bruising was the fact that drama would be bad for new business, and she knew it. Make she try herself for neutral territory. Nonsense!
The dry lump in my throat seemed to increase with her sarky comment, and turn into a spinning, spiky ball. You know, the kind in that strepsil ad, lodged in the poor guy's throat before someone comes along and gives him a lozenge.
Fifteen minutes later Madam Hater ushered me in. I summoned the last few drops of saliva and swallowed to moisten my throat.
'Good afternoon, Mr. Dafe', and I cringed as I heard myself croak!
'Hello, Amaka'. He had an amused smile on his face. 'Please sit. Don't say anything just yet'. He reached into the bedside fridge beside him and brought out the most magical bottle of water I ever saw! I accepted it gratefully, and took a very restrained swig.
'Better now?' With the same amused smile that completely mortified me. I managed a small laugh of my own and said 'yes, thank you very much'
'Unfortunately I have a meeting in 20 mins. How's Jide? He's not here with you?' He queried.
'Jide had to be at a meeting with a client who's abt to leave town for a few weeks. He sent his regards and promised to drop by soon'.
'Ah. I see. Alright then. What can I do for you?'
I threw myself into it, and gave him the best sales pitch I'd ever heard. While we spoke, I took small mental notes. Graying hair - mid-forties. Simply dressed, everything understated screamed "class". His speech told me he was well educated. It was his eyes that told me he was unhappy.
We spoke a bit, and he promised to think about my offer. What I didn't know was that he had an offer of his own.
'When can I give you a call to find out your decision?'
'Over dinner. Tomorrow night.'
'I'm sorry? Dinner you said?' I was going into defence mode - shutters down, bars up, locks and bolts slamming into place.
'I'm busy tomorrow night'.
'How about the day after?'
'Mr. Dafe, I'm going to say this without any offence intended: I do not do dinner with married men, or my clients. I'm not the type. I do not shit where I eat. I want your business, but I will not compromise my morality to get it'.
He didn't look surprised. 'I apologise if it seems that way. I only want your company, nothing else. You seem like a nice lady and an intelligent one at that. I guess I enjoyed our chat and wanted to chat with you again'.
I just shook my head no. 'It was a pleasure meeting you sir. I hope you'll still do business with us'.
'As long as it's alright to give you a call and let you know my decision'.
'I'll expect your call sir'.
.....
I glanced at the image in the mirror on my way out. Satisfied, I opened the door to join my date in the car outside.
'Hello Richard. You don't look like you've done a thing today' I said, smiling as he kissed my forehead.
'I wish! How was your day?'
'It just got better.'
I know what you're thinking. Stupid stupid girl.
Relax. It's Richard Bankole. No relative of Dafe.
My date with Dafe's tomorrow night.
I bet you've got ants in your pants right now.
Abeg wetin you dey talk? This sun was not for small children!
Hard as I tried, I couldn't concentrate on what my boss was saying.
'This man is short-tempered, but if you impress him, you can meet your target in one month from his deposits alone. You know what that means right? No smeh-smeh or any ...'
Please. One. Drop. Of. Water. Stop. Talking. It's. Making. My. Head. Ache.
'OK sir'.
'I won't be coming in with you'. Hmm! See setup! 'Oh ok. Oga you have another meeting, and want to save time abi?'
'Yes,' he grabbed at the out I gave him like a rat looking for the nearest exit. 'It's on the next street, so once you're ready, buzz me and I'll have the pool car come get you'.
What. Ever.
'Ok. See you in about 30 mins'
....
Not a shabby office.
'I'm here to see Mr. Dafe. Please tell him I'm colleague to Jide, Marketing Manager at Evergreen Bank. Here's my card'.
Madam Receptionist eyed the card like it had measles, scrutinised me (perhaps to see if I'd hidden my scandalous clothes somewhere underneath the well covered outfit I had on).
'Can I please have some water?'
'Do I look like a water dispenser? Mschew.'
Na wa. See venom. Hater! The only thing that saved her from a nasty verbal bruising was the fact that drama would be bad for new business, and she knew it. Make she try herself for neutral territory. Nonsense!
The dry lump in my throat seemed to increase with her sarky comment, and turn into a spinning, spiky ball. You know, the kind in that strepsil ad, lodged in the poor guy's throat before someone comes along and gives him a lozenge.
Fifteen minutes later Madam Hater ushered me in. I summoned the last few drops of saliva and swallowed to moisten my throat.
'Good afternoon, Mr. Dafe', and I cringed as I heard myself croak!
'Hello, Amaka'. He had an amused smile on his face. 'Please sit. Don't say anything just yet'. He reached into the bedside fridge beside him and brought out the most magical bottle of water I ever saw! I accepted it gratefully, and took a very restrained swig.
'Better now?' With the same amused smile that completely mortified me. I managed a small laugh of my own and said 'yes, thank you very much'
'Unfortunately I have a meeting in 20 mins. How's Jide? He's not here with you?' He queried.
'Jide had to be at a meeting with a client who's abt to leave town for a few weeks. He sent his regards and promised to drop by soon'.
'Ah. I see. Alright then. What can I do for you?'
I threw myself into it, and gave him the best sales pitch I'd ever heard. While we spoke, I took small mental notes. Graying hair - mid-forties. Simply dressed, everything understated screamed "class". His speech told me he was well educated. It was his eyes that told me he was unhappy.
We spoke a bit, and he promised to think about my offer. What I didn't know was that he had an offer of his own.
'When can I give you a call to find out your decision?'
'Over dinner. Tomorrow night.'
'I'm sorry? Dinner you said?' I was going into defence mode - shutters down, bars up, locks and bolts slamming into place.
'I'm busy tomorrow night'.
'How about the day after?'
'Mr. Dafe, I'm going to say this without any offence intended: I do not do dinner with married men, or my clients. I'm not the type. I do not shit where I eat. I want your business, but I will not compromise my morality to get it'.
He didn't look surprised. 'I apologise if it seems that way. I only want your company, nothing else. You seem like a nice lady and an intelligent one at that. I guess I enjoyed our chat and wanted to chat with you again'.
I just shook my head no. 'It was a pleasure meeting you sir. I hope you'll still do business with us'.
'As long as it's alright to give you a call and let you know my decision'.
'I'll expect your call sir'.
.....
I glanced at the image in the mirror on my way out. Satisfied, I opened the door to join my date in the car outside.
'Hello Richard. You don't look like you've done a thing today' I said, smiling as he kissed my forehead.
'I wish! How was your day?'
'It just got better.'
I know what you're thinking. Stupid stupid girl.
Relax. It's Richard Bankole. No relative of Dafe.
My date with Dafe's tomorrow night.
I bet you've got ants in your pants right now.
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