Random musings of a fragrant day

 

It’s one of those days when you wish you had just stayed in bed.

 

Wake up, shake cobwebs out, clear your head and start preparations to get to work on time.

Looking sharp despite the restless clammy night, you grab wallet, phone, charger and car key, kiss wifey who’s still curled up in bed (thanks WFH) and step out.

A quick scan on Google Maps makes you step back in and drop car keys. You thank God again for technology because a reasonable stretch of Addo road gleams a vibrant oxblood red on your phone screen.

Sigh…It’s going to be one of those days.

Pull out your wallet and another quick glance shows a scattered assortment of notes plus one or two heavily denominated ones so you’re reasonably certain of not getting stranded cash-wise.

A decision has to be made.

Your small pepper has only just recently rested so the thought of being spotted in public transport doesn’t daunt you at all…indeed, a smile breaks out as you contemplate the adventure which is getting to the office on time.

Step out sharply once more, give some instructions to your amazingly laid-back security man about granting access to the generator repair guy, then step out to face the day.

Pull on the mandatory nose mask, double twist the handles over your ears to ensure snugness and step out to wait for a Keke out of the estate.

Fifteen minutes later and you start to sweat a bit.. what’s going on??? Where in God's name are these dudes? You’re reasonably sure that this is not always the case so you tamp the panic down and glance at the growing crowd around your popular bus stop.

You definitely can’t be seen struggling for Kekes and being extremely averse to public embarrassment, you step a distance away from the crowd and wince as three Kekes subsequently stop just where you were standing a minute ago and get filled up almost immediately. Damn.

It’s getting late now and just as thoughts of going back to pick your car and damn the consequences surface, a rusty one screeches to a halt near you. The crowd has thinned out, so you quickly gather yourself and step in..

Too late you realize it’s packed with school children who obviously do not care too much about hygiene and a fat woman with a suspiciously covered basket. Driver zooms off before you can change your mind and that’s when the smell of fish wafts across and onto you.

Mon Dieu!!! It's awful

You turn your head, grateful to be on the end of the seat and stick your head partly out of the doorway. Thankfully It’s not a very long trip and despite a grab from one of the crazy school kids at the mobile phone in your hand you arrive the estate gate without any further incident. With a final scalding glare at the disembarking kids, you pay up and face the next leg of the journey.

A few steps forward from the Keke stand, you look at the bus stop and wince inwardly at the crowd waiting for vehicles to Ajah.

Mahn, what is going on today??

You really can’t afford any more wasted time after the Keke wait so you change tactics and start scanning for Okada riders.

Same story as their unfortunate keke brethren. There are virtually no bike guys around.

A few of them actually stop to pick passengers, however, the obscene amount being quoted as transport fare discourages a large percentage of the crowd. A glance at your watch and remembering you’re not quite cash-strapped makes you think about it only briefly as you rush to the next available one and hop on after indicating destination and agreeing to his murderous price.

As he zooms off, it hits you again.

At first, you assume olfactory PTSD of the earlier fish woman but no, this is a new one.

Your bike guy has chronic body odour and it feels like he works at an abattoir as a side hustle and has never bothered showering/doing laundry for a while.

It’s not too late to ask him to stop but you think quickly about it and presume that with increased speed, presence of nose mask and the breezy weather would make it a bit better.

It doesn’t.

As he gradually increases speed the smell wafts out from his being and literally…hugs you…no warning, no indication, just reaches out and chokes you prematurely. Hey God!.

It’s made worse by the raised seat contours because as you try to lean back away from all bodily contact, you slide back all the way down every time he pulls the brakes (which is often).

As a cloud of black, choky, exhaust fumes pour out all over you from a passing sand tipper truck, you turn philosophical and resign yourself to fate.

He squeezes the bike past a very narrow gap on the two-lane road at Addo roundabout market, and the final insult occurs when you get splashed by thrashing catfish in a big basin which is positioned just next to the road by an obviously crazy market woman…

In hindsight, most likely as payback for dissing their unknown aquatic colleagues in the first Keke today.

Your smelly bike guy confuses google maps by driving one-way and grins at you when you arrive destination ahead of schedule.

Taking a huge lifesaving breath of fresh air away from his proximity, you seriously consider using some pointedly rude words on him but something in that happy-go-lucky-life-no-too-hard grin of his makes you reconsider and go your way.

Your day has already been ruined. No need to add him to the list.