The day started off rather relaxed. I woke up surprisingly early, made a good wholesome breakfast and made my way to my mates’ place because we ride into work together sometimes.
On a day like today, you don’t anticipate anything going side-ways, never mind completely off track.
So, I get to my friends’ place, let’s call him Cheesecake, and he’s making his way out to fulfill an errand before we leave. He leaves me locked in with a strict set of instructions to make myself comfortable until he gets back.
I always imagine having a morning routine but I always oversleep or take too much time getting dressed so it never works out. I am taking this opportunity to do what I think a wholesome routine is, so I boil the kettle. “Omg, I having a sit-down tea before work and not a coffee on the go’, I beam – I feel so warm inside and I haven’t even had the tea yet.
With a good cuppa in hand and the amazing view of the mother city that Cheesecake’s flat has, I nestle myself onto a nearby chair and appreciate what it’s like to be up early. ‘ I need to do this more often’ is one of my most recurring thoughts.
Just before I put my earphones in, I take one last glance around the flat to make sure all is in order ( I don’t even know if I would be able to tell if anything was out of order. I mean, it’s not even my flat lol) and that no one is going to hop out at me like Ghostface Jason from Scream – little did I know I’d be doing screaming of my own. Cheesecake has a flatmate, Donut, and I haven’t seen him all morning so I can only assume he has gone out or is passed out hella cold from a hectic night of raucous shenanigans the night before so, one last glance around confirms that my pending routine can continue.
I am knee-deep in the motions when I hear a HECTIC banging on the door. ‘VULA!’. This was before Phoyisa came out so I didn’t laugh at all but I wasn’t super panicked either – maybe a young fright. I took my earphones out but also chose to ignore the thunderous banging on the door because once more, this is not my space. Who am I to be opening people’s doors? That knock tells me someone owes money and I don’t want to be creating an alibi for the money.
While the banging and hollering continues, I scream Cheesecake’s name thinking maybe he forgot that he had locked me in and is demanding I open ‘coz he can’t find his keys (also to add noise so that if Donut is home, he can answer). I won’t lie, at this point, I am shaking harder than a salt shaker at Wimpy. My heart is Megan thee Stallion.
The gent, obviously thinking this is WWE Smackdown, continues banging on the door and bellows the last warning,’ if you don’t open I am going to break this whole thing down!’. As I quicklyyyy (af) hop up and spring to the door
it bursts open…
‘Vula iGate ngoku!’*
*open the gate, now.