Wolverine
I have always heard my girlfriends talking about Wolverine; dark, handsome and infectious are his epithets. Well to me he is not drop dead gorgeous but he had this attractiveness about him that made him irresistible or is it the Lexus Alteeza that he drove that had women drooling over him. He is 5feet 8inches tall and has Saudi Arabian phenotype. He is an accountant at Bank of Nova Scotia Limited and his mother is from a prominent family in the Grange District.
I often wonder what it would be like to have wolverine stare at me in a propositioning way but apparently that was never going to happen since every time I see him or look at him he looked right through me. It is as if where he is concerned I am invisible or non-existent. Eventually, I accept the notion that I would never get near a guy like wolverine since I was obviously not his type. I am 5feet 4inches tall, voluptuous and averagely attractive. I am no femme fatale and I mostly see him with skinny girls and I was nowhere near a silhouette physique.
I remember seeing him one Sunday morning in his mechanical chariot and as I stare at the car expecting him to see the desperado in my eyes and wave at me, take my number and later on ask me to marry him. He rolled passed me without even a horn blow. Last week I went to a party and while I was enjoying the reverie, I saw the Alteeza strolling up the avenue. He alighted from the vehicle like a Greek god staring me dead in the eye and then he averted his gaze. I was transfixed and vowed to cherish that moment that he had looked at me. Moments after his entrance, an African semblance chick alight from the car and proceeded in the direction that he went. Looking at girl, I realized that I was not so bad after all and that if I lost a few pounds he may see me as a desirable woman.
Three years later…
I hate taking the taxi in the afternoon after a long day at work, filing accounts and auditing transactions. This driver was not bad since he played music and I love a taxi that plays contemporary music. As I shift over more in the car to allow another passenger inside, my prince sped pass in his chariot. I felt love welling up into my heart. Right there and then I decided that I was going to find a way to call him and express my eternal, undying love for him.
The next morning I decided to call wolverine’s workplace and use a pretext to get his number and then call him as a mystery woman. I got the number and I called him expressing the desire for a contract agreement with his company. When I rang his phone I hang up due to nervosa complexity and told my assistant to answer the phone, if he called back and he did. This guy was going to put me in what Rhianna called a Rehab.
My assistant spoke with him while I giggled like a lovesick teenager. She ended the conversation and she said “he sounds sober”. I laughed and decided that I was going to send him a web text. I send the text and he replied by texting my phone. We text each other until he called and we spoke on the phone. I deduced from our verbal exchange that he was hilarious, sweet and companiable. He talked to me as if we were old friends catching up on old times. He told me that he was living in Grange which I found perplexing since I had assumed that he left the area. Since he was not being forward with his data I decided not to be probity either. We decided to meet later in the afternoon and I was ecstatic for the rest of the evening.
Chapter Two
I stood at my door waiting for wolverine to pick me up in his Alteeza. I was very nervous and anxious about meeting him. As I stood I saw the Alteeza pulled up at my feet and I walked in front of the car. I sat in the car and he turns the lights on to get a good look at my face. I felt sheepish and feverish under his probing eyes and that’s when I realized that he is not that good looking from close range. He had beamy eyes and his hair lining was receding. I discovered that he was older that I had assumed and that he had a beer belly that his clothes hid. Most disturbing was that he had a fetish that I could not comply with and he was a pervert. He did not like women of my size even though he never said it directly but he implied that conviction in his reactions to my preference of food and his catalogue reputation. Wolverine was a braggart and lack propositioning skills
On the other hand he had a delectable sense of humour. He is charming and has this innocent look on his face that broke my heart every time I stare at him. He exudes this cool confidence, air of humility and appears to have a sense of purpose in his life. He was not perfect.
He brought me home with him and there I encountered another disappointment. His house was basically a bachelor’s pub. There was minimal furniture in the apartment even though the basic conveniences were available. Wolverine’s clothing was strewn over the floor, in boxes and barrels in one corner. He had a dusty dresser set that did not have any figures, crochet accoutrement only hygienic assortments. The TV was placed on a box in his room marked HCG cassettes (I asked him what he was doing with a box of pregnancy tests and he laughed and said that he had recently moved in the apartment and the boxes had clothing in them) and the bedspread was rumpled and dirty.
I proceeded to change the bedspread and linen since he had left to go to the town and will be back in five minutes. He told me that I could take anything from the fridge and that I should make myself at home. After I emended the bed I walked over to the fridge which was stacked with Red Bull, Milo Energy Drink, Hypnotic and a half bottle of tequila and other non-perishable edibles. There were fruits and vegetables in the tray and lobsters, shrimp and chicken back in the freezer. The stove in the kitchen was spotless probably due to lack of usage. The counters were clean and the kitchen floor was spotless a stark contrast to the living and bed room. The bathroom was also clean and sparkly.
He returned with a dazzling smile on his face and said “oh my I see you have made yourself at home”
I laughed beaming with pride “oh it’s nothing” I replied staring into his beautiful hazel eyes. I could lose myself into those cocoa butter pools.
He smiled while removing his pants and asked “are you nervous?”
I was feeling edgy but it is the last thing I wanted to admit “No! Just a little disoriented. I have not dated in a while”
He laughed and came to stand over me at the same time removing his shirt. I felt cowered and just stared at the TV, a safe digression from what was unfolding before my eyes. He took his shirt off and was now only in underwear. I jumped when he placed his hand on my chest and coaxed “are you nervous? Why is your heart beating so fast?” I rolled my eyes and pretended to be coy while removing his hand that was placed flat against my breast “what?” I said smiling “take your hands off my breast!”
He placed his hand firmer on my chest and crowed “why? I love to feel them” staring at me with heated intensity he continued his articulation “am going to take a bath, do you want to wash my back?”
My mouth dropped open in shock at his endearment “no! Sorry I don’t want my hands to get wet”. He walked away and countered “you sure it’s your hands that you are afraid of wetting up”. I laughed and told him to go hell. He laughed and sauntered into the bathroom butt naked. I tried to act furtive towards his nakedness but the truth be told I had gotten an eyeful.
I watched TV while he took his bath. I was tempted to go inside and peek at him for fun sake but my grandmother had always warned me not to pour gasoline on a fire when I am trying to oust it. I restrained my wild side and opt to watch the TV instead. His tummy did not look that big in the nude. He had a mat of hair on his chest and sexy bow-legs. His butt was pert and he had tone arms. He was not endowed in his area of proficiency but he argued that such malady could be compensated by other means…
A spectacle walked across the room and interrupted my chain of thoughts. Wolverine was standing in front of the mirror drying himself with a towel stark naked completely oblivious to or rather nonchalant of my gape. He turned towards me and places his leg up on the bed trapping me between his crotches while his unabashed appendage danced from leg to leg before my very eyes. I felt afraid as there was that sardonic yet victors look on his face as I tried sheepishly and timidly to convince him to remove his masculinity from before me.
He protests, grinning “Why you turning you head away...you shy…, look at me, please?”
“I do not want to look at you” I replied sternly while wrestling my face from his hand that was trying to pry my head from the direction of the television. I protest “please leave me alone”
He laughed and said “I am going to rape you” in a comical tone and walked away towards the living room. I watch him sashayed away whereas my jaw dropped open and I burst into loud guffaws. This man was insane. I kept on chuckling until he modeled back into the room, eyed me seriously and professed “are you going to let me rape you… you’re not afraid that I would do it…or would you prefer if I went on my knees and beg”
I chortled “whenever… if ever we reach that level it will be entirely consensual”
He cocked one brow and said “pretty please…please do me a beg you…pretty pleaaase….”
I rolled with laughter and chided “you are such a charmer”
He laughed and kept on with his charade by getting down on the floor on his precious knees. I walked over to him and to my astonishment; he pulled me down on the floor and began to kiss me savagely. The kiss was bittersweet as my bum hurt from the hard hit it got on the concrete. He started to caress my back and eventual my entire body in long compelling and riveting finger strokes. He took my hand and guided it to his pubis which was hard with desire. I felt as if my hands touch a torch and I tussled from his embrace and sat on the bed while he was looking at me with a ridiculous grin on his face. I felt angry, cheap and insignificant; what the hell was I doing. I had dreamt of this moment but not like this and definitely not on the first night.
He was to take me to a restaurant for us to have dinner and now he is trying to seduce me. I queried “aren’t you going to take me to dinner”. He became all austere and said “I have an errand that I have to run immediately that’s not going to happen tonight” I was pissed and replied coolly “I haven’t eaten all evening”.
He shrugged and supplied “I can take you to KFC”…
I felt demoted but I acquiesced. It’s better than not getting anything to eat. He has definitely lost points with me. I wonder why he no longer wanted to take me out. And it suddenly struck me as I looked at my reflection in the mirror in the KFC line and saw him outside speaking to an attractive female.
I had disappointed him and he decided that I was not good enough to take out.
At that moment I was glad that I did not give into his sexual overtures and after crushing on him for so long I have to agree that he does not deserve me. I am too good for the likes of him.
I take solace in the fact that the course of history was never changed by the many but by the few who risked exposing facts by written word reminds me always that the Pen Is Mightier than the Sword. When the self righteous is poked into undying rage the real personality explodes like dynamite and the self proclaimed veneer vanishes into thin air like the mist from dawn. Let the chips fall where they may.
“The idea that sex is something a woman gives a man, and she loses something when she does that, which again for me is nonsense. I want us to raise girls differently where boys and girls start to see sexuality as something that they own, rather than something that a boy takes from a girl.”
— Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
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