There are a few things I cannot stand; a poorly done TV ad, badly voiced radio jingles, clammy sweaty bodies rubbing against me… Sheesh! They are many! But dirty hands touching me; that stands apart! Nothing irks me as much as that. I randomly catch myself chanting “Oh please don’t touch me, don’t reach to shake my hand…” in my mind. No, I’m not a snob. I just much-too-often pop my body parts (fingers, wrists, elbows, shoulders… I’m flexible, yes?) in my mouth to while away time and my body already generates enough germs, I definitely don’t want yours! That’s my excuse.
On my way to work every morning, I walk down this path; there’s always an average of ten men scattered around with little distances between them. I used to think they were the bus conductors but apparently not so. They’re spectators. They stand there with pipes in their mouths (You do know I mean cheap cigarettes there), puffing out smoke and giving satisfactory nods to species of the feminine gender well rounded in the appropriate places as they pass by.
Life happened, and slowly there was a paradigm shift from spectators to commentators/gropers. And so every morning, as I walk by, I’m bombarded with chants of “Hey segzy, I laik de way you wok…” or “Fine gehl, gimme your number na” whilst dodging from the littlest bit of contact between the scummy hands and my body. (Remember my excuse, I’m not a snob 😐 )
I had a rough morning today, and even before I got to the dreaded path, I knew I was in no mood for it. I decided to plug my ears in advance. As I walked along, I heard nothing, saw nothing and felt nothing. It was working after all. And then suddenly, this guy just walks up to me and yanks my ear phones out and says “Ahn ahn, sister, we dey talk to you now, why you no wan answer”. I’m chanting inwardly “Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose it” and the final straw! HE GRABS MY HAND!!!
NO! NO! NO! There was no way I would let that pass! I grabbed his shirt and started yelling things I don’t remember now. All the rest of the spectators-turned-commenting-gropers came around and appeased me saying “We know this aunty, she no get wahala, sister no vex” I calm down and continue on my journey.
I had passed a message (even if it was just in my mind) because truth is after he grabbed me, I yelped a weak “Limme!” and hurriedly scurried away whilst they laughed behind 🙁
Now I’m in my seat, seething and picturing all the things I could have said and done to guarantee my safety, walking down that path. I’m really seething. 🙁