Woke up this morning and a question i usually get from new acquaintances; mostly male jumped into my mind. “What is your most embarrassing moment?”. i am still trying to figure if this sharing of images that should be buried in the sand and locked up in a chest then thrown into the Pacific (God helps the pirate that sees that chest thinking its a treasure) helps in the bonding process. Usually at that point when i’m asked, i go “emm, Uhh…” *crickets* my memory hits skip. But this morning my memory decided to remind me of two vivid moments in my short adult life *sigh* i guess it has a mind of its own, my memory that is. choosing the time to torture my delicate mind.
As fate would have it, these two blush moments are of the same genre (yeah genre I’m allowed to borrow the word to fit my bill nah, right?). The ASS-OOPS! Genre.
Huh hun, ASS! *smh*. My first encounter with the defamation of my ‘chickness’ was during my first year in the university. It was a bright sunny friday. i decided to go to class in ‘trads’ trading it for my usual jeans and tops (note jeans and top is the way forward if you wanna survive in that jungle of a class each morning to get good seats. I’m almost tempted to describe our survival skills for upcoming freshers but i’ll just say make sure you have good sneakers). I didn’t feel like struggling, that morning. lucky for me, i have a cousin who always had empty seats at the front, she likes to think herself landlady, ℓ☺ℓ.
Dressing up took longer than usual, i had to wrestle with the skirt to get it over my bum. Did the material shrink since the last time i wore it? i refuse to think i had added a few pounds, i still look slim, my mirror never lie. To make the process easier, i decided to ditch wearing tights. Wrong idea.
Finally, i got to class. Strolled in like a peacock, with my nose in the air. i could feel the guys checking me out, damn, the ‘trad’ was working its magic, flaunting my figure eight. The shortage of breath was worth the attention. i should get prospects by the end of class. i was happy with myself. i sat close to my friends and cousin at the front of the class. Halfway through the lecture, i received a note from a guy sitting behind me. Wow!, so quick, I’m gonna enjoy today. i opened it and it read “you ass is hanging”. I’m like “what tha heck is he talking about?”. Then i was prompted to check the zipper of my skirt, it had given way! My ass WAS hanging!. You might say “she should have underpants on”. yea i did but they weren’t your regular ‘mum underpants’ if you catch my drift. I had switched to allow my ass fit into the skirt. i took a quick glance at the pips behind me, the roll was occupied by guys i went to secondary school with, amongst them was one that had even asked me out! 😦
Funny i can’t remember how i survived that day. But i sure know i didn’t get any prospects!
My second defamation of ‘chickness’ was during my service year. For those of you who have served or are currently serving, you will attest to the bagco super sack they call khaki. i wonder why they bother to ask us for our size when at the end of the day, we all end up with parachutes *smh*. So as it is the norm, i had my khaki amended at mami market for a whooping 900 naira after much pleading msheeew. If only my ‘London tailor was nearby, 100 naira would have done the trick. The lady did a good job slim fitting it. Too good a job. It fitted my frame like a second skin. At first i was happy but after washing it shrunk. i had become a teblic over night. And so i was doomed to wearing double ‘sokoto’ for the one year service.
On this glorious day of showing, i don’t know what possessed me, i decided to wear my khaki alone. Usually its either i wear my white t-shirt on jeans to the secretariat on reaching there i add my khaki pants on the jeans or i go wearing black jeans with my white t-shirt (this is allowed for corpers in FRSC community development group, Ota secretariat). i guess i wanted to feel like correct ‘otondo’ by dressing 4/6 (that is white t-shirt, khaki trouser, white socks and white tennis minus the cap and khaki jacket).
Anyway, on this blessed day, as i got down from the BRT i felt breeze seeping through my khaki from behind, but i didn’t give it so much as a second thought. As i climbed the ‘okada’ that would take me to the secretariat, the intensity of the breeze on my ass had increase, now i started to worry. When i got down, the khaki had loosed from my the waist to the mid section of my ass. This is not good. My white couldn’t even cover it. the disadvantage of buying police t-shirt. I then remembered i didn’t have my clearance letter from my employer so i had to take a bike to the office.
By the time i got back for my clearance the hole had widened so much i had to use my bag to cover it. i finished clearance Ąπϑ as bad luck would have it, my corper friend with whom i used to hitch a ride home wasn’t around. So i made the humbling journey with my tail feather out for all the corpers to see, got on a bike straight to the BRT terminal. Thank God a bus was waiting there, i practically jumped into the bus. Another bad idea, ‘cos the khaki burst open completely and yours truly was not wearing your usual ‘granny pants’ but the rather eyebrow raising one. i sat down close to entrance praying that today will be like those days when the bus would be scanty. Your guess is as good as mine. It was filled to the door.
As we got closer to oshodi, i was breaking into bouts of sweat. The thought of the whole bus seeing my black ass was terrifying. i begged the lady beside me for her scarf but it was too small. Like she would give a stranger her scarf. i measured the distance of the exit to my seat- 3 strides. As the bus slowed i didn’t wait for it to stop. i was the first one out the door, my bag second but it was useless anyway my ass was out for the world to see. Thank God i met a pashmina trader where i got down.
So lessons to be learnt;
1. If you are going to wear eye popping underpants, please have security either in the form of tights, shorts, or ‘shimi’
2. If you decide to put on something that is next to skin please, wear undies that cover your ass properly Ąπϑ won’t show traces on your outfit.
3. Please avoid outfits that you struggle into. The pleasure is only for a moment. The aftermath is a disaster.
4. We can’t always predict opps!, so ladies have a permanent pashmina in your bag.
5. Corpers make sure there is enough allowance for shrinkage when slim-fitting your khaki
I hope my ordeals have taught you something.