crown chukwu

Ronaldo has a craving for scoring goals that seems more of an obsession than glee. I dont know if I’m fond of him or not but I know he’s not boring. After he slipped over Nacho’s leg on Friday, got a penalty kick which he maneuvered, he looked at Nacho, winked at him and grinned. That vindictive lack of emotion that Ronaldo haters find frustating. Lol.

Forget the aggressive cuddle by Ekong that got the Super eagles a penalty kick. There was simply no individually significant player nor a formidable team. About Mikel Obi, old story.

Let me give you a new gist.

Late on Thursday someone slid into my DM and said something. That was my boss
” I don’t do a thing with married men ” I replied his indicative pleasantry.

I know he is the boss. I know that such audacity was dangerous. In 2007 I would just shake my head with a gentle flush of pink and tether away unsteadily. My polyester printed skirt billowed in the wind below my knee. In 2014, I found a nice way of turning down these advances. But every ill is nice in someone’s eyes. That’s exactly where it became the problem. In the end it boiled down to perception. Niceness wasted my time. Now I just cut straight to the chase.

“I just want to be your friend.”he continued
“Why me? There are hotter women here” Then came his epic reply.
“When we want to hunt, we go for hot women….
Who cares? I rolled my eyes skyward and pressed my lips downward in a sniff.
…when we want to make friends, we go for personalities. You are one Crown.”

My chin slid upwards. But that smile was short lived because of soccer.
Salah who scored 43 goals in 47 games this last season has won himself the darling of soccer fans. If only coach Hector had brought him in during the last minutes, maybe the psychological effect of his presence on the pitch could have swayed Villainous Suarez and his Uruguay team. That 89th minute score elicited a sympathy from me that was only reserved for loved ones. Darling Salah. He slouched on his chair. My heart caved.

But that wasn’t all that happened over this Sallah holiday.

On sartuday I visited my manicurist for a session. This baba walked into the saloon and sat down. Clutched pensively to his hand was a bag of perishables. Meat, fish, tomatoes, he was a fatherly kind of father. I didn’t know he was looking at me until I heard him say;
” you have the look of an intellect. The kind that will go places. ”
I swung a restless gaze round the empty saloon.
“I’m talking to you”,he stared fixedly at me.
” thank you”, came my mumbled reply.
I said that because I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to ask the baba if he knew me before. Instead, I stood up and strolled away. There was a new leap to my step.
A holiday of many variables I thought.
Soccer fever, personality review from strangers, steamy outings and some other variables I can’t tell you now.

Bottom line
Tomorrow is work and I’m ready for it.

*Diary of a Sallah break*