You meet her on one of those days. Boredom morphs into irritation, topped off with despondency. Your 8-4 (5-9) is especially dull on the day. Madam Bosco, your loud mouthed, over-bearing boss rips into you as usual over the ever yawning chasm between your targets and your deliveries. The heat seems to have major intentions of causing grievous bodily harm in any case. That is when the ‘gods’ of the internet and itchy fingers contrive to send Her your way.
It ostensibly is an error of the digits – two numbers on the key pad transposed – that makes her call you. You are in no mood for niceties and you utter a few choice words and end the phone call. Perhaps she is hurt, but she opts to send you an SMS apologizing for the mix-up.
You have had the time to think on your commute home – and you give her a call to apologize right back. She giggles, and says she instigated the entire brouhaha, you insist you reacted over the top. Bottom line you become friends.
By now you know she is an intern in the oil firm you always wanted to work for, she loves poetry, pretended to write some of her own a few years ago and loves Pavarotti. You though are stuck in the lurch as an investment banker in some lousy bank. You quickly slip in though that you have a trip to SA lined up, plus your last vacation was in Paris – so she knows you can hold down it down pay wise if you need to.
You have settled into a steady rhythm: three phone calls a day, multiple emails and then the lunch break IMs. You become her nice guy; the bloke who listens to her rants from work, her angst at her over bearing father, her irritation with her football crazy brothers and oh yes…… shoes…in all their gory coloured incarnations. You tell her stuff you’ve never told anyone, your deepest secrets, inner most fears, plans and some of the ideas you want to turn to gold in a few years time. She cheers you on, analysing the pros and the cons. Not since your big sister did any one get you on the same level.
She’s headed off an a holiday, and she is passing through the city you call home. She decides to squeeze a whole day out of her schedule just to see you. You think it’s a fabulous idea and you agree to meet up. She is truly fabulous much better than you imagined. Everything is spot on; she is Cerruti perfumed and Diesel jeans plus spaghetti top clad. Add to that her glistering lip gloss, her CK glasses and her clutch specially chosen to match the colour of her spaghetti top and you know you have a keeper on your hands.
You read her a few brilliant lines you penned – just for her – you say; a parody of the finest Amiri Baraka there is out there. She is wowed, you order dinner and the chemistry is palpable. You talk for a couple of hours, swap some more poetry and then she has to head out to catch her flight. She shyly attempts to kiss you on the cheek. You both laugh at the clumsy attempt, you hold hands and look into her eyes and you believe your Mama’s travails are over.
More of the same stuff, phone calls, emails, IMs, plus the occasional emailed picture as a keep sake. Life’s good you think. You the pragmatist tells you the romantic that it is too good to be true. You the cynic refuses to participate in an exercise in futility. ‘All’s cool and kosher’, you reason, ‘why try to define things beyond what they are anyway’.
She’s heading back to school. You have got a huge target to meet at work, so naturally you drift apart. The phone calls reduce, the emails dwindle and the IMs now become short bursts of offline messages. You the cynic blithely mentions that it was all doomed to fail anyway. You the pragmatist thinks its busyness squeezing the life out of your US zone. You the romantic thinks it’s a fading fancy and couldn’t care less; choosing to bounce to Brandy’s song instead.
You the romantic and you the cynic prevail on you the pragmatist to agree to a phone call. That should be the ultimate test of where you are.
You ring her up, there’s no pick up the first time. You wait for the usual SMS, nothing comes. You give it two more days and then you try again. The third time of asking she picks up your phone call. The talk is stilted, almost foreign. You the cynic pouts and reminds you the romantic that it was an exercise in futility doomed to fail from the get go. You the pragmatist takes it philosophically, it was not meant to be.
In the instant the phone call ends, it suddenly hits you – clarity knocks you in the small of your stomach. This was no divine serendipity; it was just hideous self delusion. You were only her harmattan fling.
45 thoughts on “A Passing Fancy…”
It is what it is …an harmattan fling…Lovely note…
*sigh* I really was rooting for whatever they had.
Well, at least you had the good moments…!
Sometimes the romantic in us takes over. SUcks I tell you. Oh well it was fun while it lasted huh?
This guy sha. Your use of words. I like that. Your diction should be perfect abi? I wanna write like you when I grow up.
Nice……i am sleepy but this woke me up
OUCH! is this real or fiction! Painful but true…
I was like ah! day 90 what are they waiting for…lol Harmattan fling!
a fling o…. funny!
LOOOOL! Harmattan fling?
na wa this is real battle..the pragmatist fighting with the cynic fighting with the romantic.
The romantic is always doomed anyways….
I guess I wasnt rooting for whatever they had.
Serious self delusion
We always want so bad for things to work…this piece hit me right in the heart. Interesting…
Ahh mehn!! that sucks…or does it? I enjoyed reading that and figured it wouldn't be a 'happily ever after' type situation…they hardly ever are [cynical Me!]
Harmattan fling???? Chai life hard o! Lol. But I enjoyed the story anyways… Interesting way you wrote this too. Like this a lot!
It's funny how everyone has so many sides… cynic, pragmatist, pessimist, romantic… they're innumerable!
Wow!!!!! i love this one. it tickled the romantic me. hhehe
i like the part where you said 'why try to define things beyond what they are anyway’.
Harmattan Fling indeed! hahaha!
@Trybes – Yup.. It was just that…
@Undercover 07 – I was also rooting for them..Sadly they couldn't make it work in the long term.
@Nice Anon — Scant consolation, but valid nonetheless, nothing ventured nothing gain they say..
Don't know about perfect diction these days though.. They used to call me the speech guy back in the day….
@Omosi T — Really? Hopefully, you needed to be awake, not asleep.
@NoLimit — Neither real nor fiction.. Just words on a page.. With a twist…
@Pink-Satin — LOL… Unfortunately Day 90 was an anti-climax of sorts
@Diamond Hawk — Yup.. sadly just a fling.. I had high hopes for them…
@Fabulo-la — LOL…. True words… Serious self delusion.. I have a theory though, that people who talk to themselves have thee three personalities striving to be heard amidst the inner din..
@Caleb.. Really? Thanks… It also hits me very close home too… A friend of mine is around about one-quarter of the story..
@Repressed One — Yup, real life is largely never a 'happily ever after story'. Unless the Brothers Grimm or Hans Christian Andersen are the ones scripting it…
@miss. fab — Thanks.. We all have the various sides I think, especially us peeps who talk to ourselves a lot…
@Jabez — LOL… Thanks! It does tickle my fancy too… Only I know how it all ended, so I can see it for the fling it was… Hehehe
Thanks peeps! Trust y'all are having a splendid day…
That happens a lot of times. harmattan flings, holiday flings, school flings. i love the story
wow! how familiar… the number of times. ah well, I guess when the romantic, pragmatist and cynic collide, then it is really well… but optimism is so much more fun!
I love the way you wrote this.
I agree with Anon, I wanna write like you, when I grow up!
Day Ninety just spoil everything…
I like 'the romantic me, 'the cynic me, the pragmatic me
but then, me I am still an helpless romantic o!
You really are right, we have the different parts of us, that tell us what to do at different times, but we shut the others up, our greatest 'want' wins.
I still like to be hopeful at every time!
rili lovely note. poor guy!
sweet n sad
harmattan fling…nice words but the story rings so true…i shall not mention the category i fell into. The flinger or the flingee 🙂
@Have you any wool — Yup.. all the time… By omission or by commission
@kmplx — Yup.. Happens all the time I guess…Optimism is so much more fun, true…. If some hard nosed pragmatism is added I guess..
@Olufunke — Ahh… You don't do bad yourself…. Guess every one has a side that wins over in the end…
@rayo/Olamild — Yes o… poor bloke….and poor chic…
@Rita — LOL….. I'm sure 'we all' have fallen into one or more of the categories at any some time…
was just getting ready to throw my hands in d air and then day 60 and 90 come along…aint that typical u?..lol, i love the way you wrote it, made it more interesting to read
You sabi write sha. Nice one!
Ouch! That hurts. Really.
**divinity here. finally moved from blogger. 🙂
Ouch DannyB, you have written to close to home. I think I am moving into my Day Sixty [sighhhhhhh].
lol @ harmattan fling.
I've got to admit, i was waitin 4 d bad part.
d romantic hardly wins.
Well…LIFE Really sucks until you DIE! Then it sucks even more if you have tried to make life less sucky while alive by indulging in hell-insured activities….
Life is short, Nasty and brutish. This is the state of nature….This will be the pessismist me.
i guess i can relate to this
LOL @ Harmattan fling, I guess that little ray of hope can't help but shine through…
lol@ "Day 30 … and you believe your mama's travails are over"; hahhaha!!! But nawa o, 90 days ke! mehn, if i havent closed out the deal in 2 wks, i already know its a miss.
@Jhazmyn — LOL.. Not my fault… Life happened…
@Sugarking — Thank you o.. Bros..
@Sultana… Cool moniker mehn.. Added you to my Google reader already..
@Caramel Delight — Hmm… Hits close home here too….Guess where you go from Day Sixty depends on what you really want to do.. Progress with the fling or cut it off for minimum collateral damage
@Rene — LOL.. Life happened.. And it's not all the time it's all cool and kosher
@ Temite — I would agree largely .. Except to add that sometimes, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
@Anonymousgal — LOL.. I'm sure a lot of us can relate..
@Rose — Yeah.. a little ray.. but some hope nonetheless..
@Kay9 — Hmm.. 2 weeks? That's a high success threshold I would say….. I might be needing tutorials from you mehn…
One of the best stuff you've eva written RustGeek…
Me likey a lot….
So spot on…..
It happens all the time.
Yeah …. shit happens.
Oh Boy…….. the romantic in me was hopelessly hopeful…
Chai. That's just sad mahn, but sh!t happens. I have really missed your blog!
Thanks for checking up on me 🙂 I'm back!
@CLG — Really? Totally chuffed then..
@Sirius — It sure does…
@NIMMO — Yeah…
@Lil Miss Thang — Hopelessly hopeful… Hmmm….. Nice one…
@Neffs — Ah.. I clicked the link to the old URL today and it said the blog was not found… Was beginning to wonder o….. lol.. Welcome back…
i like the writing style, the cynic,the pragmatic,and the romantic.guess we ve all of them inside us
me romantic doesn't believe the last line. thinks maybe it was just the distance
…..maybe it's time to look for a girl without the lip gloss, diesel jeans and CK sun glassses…..Maybe it's time to look for a girl whose beauty shines from within….whose brain and heart are her substance……just sayin'.!!!…lol
Bless you man,
Nice style of putting pen to paper, I like very much.
Is the story true? Interesting inner personalities: the C, P and R…Lol,,,that spells CPR, mite be significant.
Anyway 1st time here, Nice blog.
@Sunnyside — Yup.. we all have them in us I think…
@Mulan — Hmm.. the distance? Maybe.. What is it they say about absence making the heart grow fonder?
@Kt — LOL…. Will keep that in view the next time out.. LOL
@MissI — Thanks a lot…. CPR… Hmm…. Maybe thinking along these lines is a recipe for heart problems?
Why does this story sound so familar? It makes me sad! How have you been?