Midnight Runs
Love Found Me in the Shadows of Midnight
You people need to understand that money is not everything.
But…
It is because of money I wear a birthday suit everyday as soon as the clock strikes 12. Believe me, I want other things too. Not just money.
But…
Money can bring those other things. So why wait for those other things when I can have them because I have money? Prostitute isn’t what we call it here. Sounds too vulgar for my liking. Sex worker sounds about right. It’s straight forward. It tells you what I do in the simplest way possible. I like it. Kinda has a ring to it.
You might want to keep shut before opening that judgeful mouth of yours. It pays my bills. Bills you wouldn’t be so kind enough to pay for. Maybe you are even willing to pay my bills but that means Zikoko will carry the story. Oh! Who told Zikoko? We will never know.
Anyway, the job is quite good for multitasking. I get to be my own customer care service, financial manager and minister of enjoyment. 3 in 1. You know, I eat before I eat. Abi how do those Gen Z children say it again?
The truth is that in this line of business it is only a prerequisite that men will show you shege. I mean look at all the good girls saying men have stained their white. So wouldn’t it be funny if I say I am surprised that men somehow stain my brown?
But not him.
I met my new customer only 3 months ago. Tall, fine and absolutely deliciously looking. Ashawo no suppose dey get preference but this one too fine. He saw me standing at the junction and asked me where I was headed.
“Fine man, anywhere you want me to be” was my honest reply. He laughed and said to hop in, so I did. It would have been different if I was fully clothed and he still asked me where I was headed but I wasn’t fully clothed. I haven’t been fully clothed in a very long time so why not cut to the chase?
It was only until we reached our destination, which I later found out was his house that I knew this customer was different and at first it scared me.
“Oya, sit down. Make yourself comfortable. What would you like to eat?”
Eat bawo? Oh! Maybe this customer was one of those Gen Z children that liked to eat before eating or so I thought. So I started to undress.
“Excuse me, you don’t have to undress. I asked what you would like to eat”
Is this playing?
“Ehn, I want to eat you naw. That is why I am removing cloth oga.”
Laughter fills the air. And for someone who loses her patience a little too quickly I still find myself asking,
“Customer, what is funny?”
While walking deeper into another room, he tells me to sit for a bit so he can shower and then we could talk and gist.
“Talk and gist? Fine oga we don’t talk and gist in this business o. We only get to action. The real action. And time is going.”
I hear him laugh again from the other room, even louder this time and I have never felt more stupid than I did at that point.
“I will pay!” I hear him shout from the other room again.
“You say wetin?!” I shout back at him from the room I was in.
“For your time. I will pay!” He shouts back. And I decide to just sit and wait on guard till he comes back.
“I’m back.” I had been waiting for a little over 20 minutes and immediately I see him, I stand to my feet.
“Oga, where e dey?”
While walking towards the room opposite the room we were both standing. As I open the door to peep in, it’s the kitchen. There’s nobody there.
“I don’t understand. Where is what?” He responds and I close the door to the kitchen to check the room he had just entered. I open and peep in. It is a master’s bedroom. Beautifully designed too but it’s not beautiful enough for me to die before my time. I close the door and face him.
“Oga forget say you be fine man. Where the calabash dey?” I know that Babalawos these days ask for the pubic hair of prostitutes for money rituals. That one no be problem. Ask me nicely, I go give you. But let’s not fool ourselves okay?
He begins to laugh again and falls to the couch.
“You are very funny oh. Ritual ke? I said you should gist me and you are talking about babalawo and rituals. Please don’t kill me with laugh”
This is no longer getting funny. I pick up my bag to leave.
“Since you no wan do, make I dey go ehn. Time is money customer.”
He sat cross-legged and says,
“But I said I will pay, for your time, whatever it costs. Just sit and gist with me.”
I like gist. And as Ashawo wey I be gist too plenty. And he kept his word, he paid me and even added a tip.
No pene, no kissing, no touching, no nothing. Just gist. He did not even do “just the tip” that I would have willingly given him a discount for.
Thankfully, it was very good for business. It also meant less body count even though I had stopped counting at 77. I was hesitant the first month when our gisting didn’t just stop at the house. At midnight, he would take me to clubs and different outlets that were still open at that time to gist with other people too. He was always gisting about this particular guy he wanted them to meet. Crazy stuff.
But as time went on, he bought me dresses for our midnight outings, I noticed they were long dresses that stopped just below my knees but they were too pretty and too expensive not to wear. This time, I was even gisting with a lot more people than I had expected. This went on and on and we became regulars at these outlets. Though, maybe I was already a regular for some before him.
Well, that was 3 months ago and ever since then that is how our sessions go. Him gisting me, me gisting him, him gisting other people with me. Until yesterday, just while we were about to get dressed for our midnight outing, I turn to him and say,
“Talk to me about this Jesus. For the past 3 months, we have been talking to other people about Him. Now, I want you to talk to me about Him too.”
He looked at me then and smiled, “I wondered when you would finally ask.”
