“Good morning,” I greeted the receptionist at the hotel in Ikeja, “I am here for the training.”
“Which one?” the pretty faced and chubby, light-skinned lady replied, flashing a set of teeth that would make good advertisement for Close Up. “We have two going on at the same time.”
“PR in the age of New Media,” I said reading from my receipt.
“First floor and she will take you,” the lady said pointing to the stout, uniformed lady standing by the elevator.
I said my thanks and was waiting by the elevator when my senses were assailed by some beautiful perfume.
“The lady at reception said you are for the PR training, right?” the tall lady with no hair asked.
“Yes, indeed I am,” I said taking her in like a mouthful.
She was tall, pretty faced, full figured and with a low cut hair. Her black figure hugging dress showed off lovely legs with feet encased in gladiator sandals.
“Tola,” she said and stretched out a hand.
“Oshoko,” I said holding on and letting go only when the elevator hissed open.
We both stepped in and in that tight space I could feel the sheer animal magnetism of her presence. Tola exuded sex. This was a man eater, a woman who could eat you alive and that morning, I didn’t mind being eaten alive.
“You work in Lagos?” I asked as the elevator ascended.
“No. Abuja,” she said
“Figures. You don’t look familiar.”
“Really? You know everyone who works in Lagos?” She asked before the elevator shuddered to a stop and we stepped out.
There was no further discussions until we had registered then picked up our training materials and settled in class.
Tola and I were the first to arrive so we sat together at the back and waited for the others to join us.
She didn’t work in a PR firm but for a DFID sponsored HIV/AIDS and Tuberculosis intervention programme, where she functioned as communications advisor.
“I bet you walk around with a bag full of condoms,” I said as we exchanged cards
“And you must have your dick hanging out to put on one,” she fired back without batting an eyelid.
“You have a yuck mouth,” I said.
“And you have a big mouth,” she fired back, holding my gaze.
“Wow,” I said, giving her the thumbs up. “You don’t pull your punches.”
“I give as good as I get,” she said and laughed.
“Well, I have something else that’s big,” I managed to say as three other participants walked in.
Tola and I did not speak again until after we had had our first session and were on tea break.
“Sorry, if I was too brusque earlier,” she said handing me a plate of snacks
“It’s okay. I can take yabis.”
“I was not yabbing. I just reacted that way because I know your type,” she told me as she picked up a sandwich.
“Really. What’s my type.”
“Swashbuckling dude with his dick in his hand thinking he can stick it everywhere.”
“And you don’t want me to?” I asked holding her gaze.
“That’s not what I said. Just don’t be so obvious,” she said and now it was my turn to be surprised.
“See, if I see a good looking woman I don’t shy away from telling her. It’s a compliment. I think you are good looking and very sexy and I would like to buy you a drink when we are done.”
“Thanks,” she said and smiled. “You don’t look bad yourself.”
“And the drink?”
We are not done yet, are we?” she asked with a wink and my whatchamacallit nodded with delight.
Continues next week.
