Tami finally slams the alarm shut. After three snoozes and thirty extra minutes of what she tells herself is restorative sleep, she decides she’s heard enough rings; it’s time to be a responsible adult.
She sits up, moves the blanket from her body, and gracefully swings her legs to the side of the bed, her feet gliding right into her pink bunny slippers. She removes her sparkly pink sleep mask, carefully placing it in her pink wooden drawer, not because she’s passionate about neatness but because, to her, aesthetics are everything.
She stretches, yawns, and stretches again, then reaches for her iPhone 16, eyes still groggy.
“Horoscope for Taurus today,” she types into Safari, because how else is she to ready herself for a responsible day of adulting without knowing what the day holds for her?
“Relationships, particularly a romantic one, will bring you great strength today…” She pauses, pursing her lips in an attempt not to blush.
“This happy phase will not get jinxed, so allow yourself to soak in some of the good sun’s vitamins…” she reads aloud.
“Romantic relationship? What relationship! Is there something I don’t know?” She stares at the phone like it contains some deep, juicy secrets she’s unable to access.
“Why do they never give better and more straightforward analysis? Like, it’ll rain today, take an umbrella with you. Your phone will disgrace you today, carry power bank?”
She drops her phone on the stool with a puzzled look on her face, then sighs as she stands up. Folds her blanket. Drags herself into the less-than-spacious yet aesthetically pink kitchen of her self-contained apartment for her regular morning boba tea.
Just as she reaches for the kettle, a knock comes at the door. She freezes. Who knocks on someone’s door before 9 a.m.? Do these people not sleep? If it’s Lucy’s mum again, asking for onions or sachet water, she might just lose it.
“Who is it?” she yells from the kitchen while making her way to the door. She opens the door to see her food delivery guy holding a white bag.
“I didn’t order anything.”
“You did, ma. A breakfast combo, bread and egg, plus orange juice,” the delivery guy says as he hands her the bag and bolts out of the hallway.
Confused, Tami shuts the door behind her, ensuring it’s locked. She cautiously opens the bag only to find the said breakfast combo.
Still confused, but too hungry to think about it, she reaches for the food pack, then something odd falls from the bag. A fortune cookie.
“Now, this is strange,” she says, picking it up suspiciously and opening it.
“Today, the one you’re meant to be with will wear mismatched socks.”
She laughs. “What sort of nonsense is this?” She squeezes the piece of paper and throws it into the bag, making a side note to trash everything when she goes downstairs.
She sits to eat her strange breakfast. “I really should stop checking these horoscope thingy. Now I’m being visited by fortune cookies, those unrealistic wannabe prophecies. Okay oh, if I see a man in red and green socks today, I’ll marry him on the spot. Hello, Santa Claus.”
✧ ──────────────────── ✧ ──────────────────── ✧
By 10 a.m., Tami has forgotten all about the cookie. How would she remember when it’s not even noon yet and she’s already experienced more than enough Lagos madness to last a week?
NEPA takes the light just when she’s about to iron her chiffon blouse. She has to settle for the flowery cotton blouse she’d sworn not to wear again, the only presentably neat blouse in her wardrobe.
She’d pushed ironing her laundry, and now she’s stuck with the blouse everyone already knows her for, instead of the one she had styled in her head.
Three different Bolt drivers cancel on her. Her neighbor’s children use chalk, again, to draw happy family pictures all over her black car, and her boss sends her a “just checking in” email like he actually cares about why she’s not yet at the office at 10 a.m.
After hailing a taxi and spending more than 40 minutes in traffic, she regrets not ironing the chiffon blouse yesterday. That would have saved her an ample amount of time.
“Why did I keep snoozing my alarm, gosh!” she thinks, with a look of impatience permanently plastered on her face, her mouth pouting.
She shifts uncomfortably in the middle seat, scrunching her nose ever so often. The woman beside her smells like onions and bad decisions. At least, she doesn’t smell like her decision this morning. Yikes! She remembers she forgot to use her favorite 24-hour lasting perfume in her frenzy to get out of the house.
As the car swerves again to avoid another pothole, her phone slips from her hand and falls under the seat.
“God abeg,” she whispers, then bends to retrieve it.
That’s when she notices them. She blinks. Red sock on the left leg. Green sock on the right.
She jerks up and hits her head against the luggage box the driver had earlier placed on the bonnet’s header.
“Ouch!” she winces.
“Are you okay?” The man sitting beside her asks, eyebrow raised.
“Yeah, thanks,” she straightens. “Nice socks.”
He laughs. “Yeah, my niece picked them. She suggested I needed a more interesting look today. She’s the boss, you know?”
Tami smiles warmly. He seems like a sweet guy. But that fortune cookie thing is probably nonsense, right? What are the chances?
Just then, the car jerks and stops, the driver frantically hits the steering wheel, grumbling while constantly trying to reignite the car.
Passengers start complaining, then leave the car in frustration. She and Mister Mismatched Socks also alight.
He turns to her with a look of amusement. “I think our taxi just gave up on life.”
“I wish I could do the same,” Tami responds, looking like she might cry.
“Not on my watch. Don’t worry, my driver just texted me. He’s parked at that junction ahead. Let’s just take a stroll there, then I’ll drop you off where you need to be.”
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t wanna impose…” Tami says, looking at him, unsure, but also thinking to herself, how could someone be so kind?
“I’m a knight in shining armor, okay? My duty is to be a strength to a maiden in need,” he says sarcastically.
“Oh, how shiny is that armor, truly,” Tami says, laughing as they start walking towards the next junction.
He clears his throat. “Do you… I mean… are you available to grab a smoothie maybe this afternoon during your lunch break? I wanted to say dinner, but that might be too forward seeing as I just met the lady the fortune cookie said I’d meet today?"
“Wait, you got a fortune cookie too? What did it say?” Tami stops in her tracks, surprised.
“Yeah. Says to wife up the lady in a flowery cotton blouse on black pant trousers with a constant pout on her lips, you got one too?” he says, looking amused.
“Yeah yeah, just experience half of what I’ve experienced this morning and see if you won’t pout too,” Tami says, laughing. “Surprisingly, yes, I got one today as well. So, you in love with me now or something?” she asks mischievously.
“Slow your horses, woman. Lol. Let’s start with the names, shall we? I’m Richard.” He grinned
“I’m Tami. And dinner would be nice,” she smiles sheepishly as Richard gazes at her like he’s been waiting for her all his life.
Maybe delulu is truly the new solulu, she thinks to herself.
✧ ──────────────────── ✧ ──────────────────── ✧
✧ ──────────────────── ✧ ──────────────────── ✧