These Old Men sef
Fists and Handshakes (Ben’s Diary II)
Dozie and I were laughing over what Pat had said about four guys like us hanging out all by themselves every Friday night, that there was something ‘not-straight’ about it. Darlington was going to say we should leave without Goke. Then everyone suddenly went hush. She had what it took to stop any man in his tracks, and I thought she knew it. We must all have seen her at the same.
“Hi.” She said to Darlington.
Darlington had this gift; they all talk to him first, even if there were a million of us.
“Hi beauty, what can we do you for?” his ladies’ man smile flashed, and his right hand instinctively reached for his collar twitching the tie as he stood up. He probably forgot he was only a visitor to our office.
“Stephanie, this way,” Pat called at the young lady.
“Oh Pat, thanks,” she seemed relieved and waved Darlington down, “I was going to ask of her,” she explained as she acrossed to meet Pat at the other end of the office. There was something uppity about her manners. They said something to each other and the young lady was allowed to go into the inner office to meet our boss, Mr. Gbenga.
“Who is she, Pat?” I asked rather impatiently.
“Mr. Gbenga’s friend.” She said rather casually.
“What?” I look at my men and saw the same dampened expression registered on their faces.
“What kind of friend?” Dozie asked incredulously.
“You might want to go in and ask him, pastor.” Pat retorted. Dozie, Pat and I are colleagues, but for some imprecise reasons being at each other’s throat appeared to define the working relationship between those two.
“God, but that girl is old enough to be his last born,” I exclaimed. Darlington was suddenly as humble as a lamb pulled out of a pot of cold pap.
“Isn’t that shocking?” Dozie said in anguish.
“Why won’t these old men just leave our young girls alone, they have lived their time naa,” Darlington said obviously upset when he spoke. But I knew there was more to it.
And just like I thought, this was going to become another big discussion, since guys don’t gossip.
“What are ladies even becoming theses days?” Dozie asked in his usual pious manner.
“He- hey, don’t even start with women now, ok?” Pat snapped at him, “why don’t you just go get married and mold your wife into that angel you are looking for everywhere so we all can see?”
“You will be that woman and I will start with molding your mouth.” Dozie replied squarely.
“You?” she laughed with mirth, “Dozie, I will simply turn you into my wrapper and sit on your flat head.” She said as she ran out of the office with her ringing cell phone, leaving us in a pool of laughter. Dozie made a face instead of saying another word.
Then Mr. Gbenga and the young lady came out holding hands. We watched in silence as they walked out of the office. The old man could have been displaying a hundred meters Olympic medal from the way he showed off, to us?
“But serious, do you know what I thought when that lady walked in?” Darlington said once they were out of earshot.
“Darlington, leave that issue, you think many things when it comes to women,” I said laughing.
“Okay, forget my thoughts,” he said prevaricating, “ now imagine yourself liking this girl, as sweet and as beautiful as she is, and you want to get to know her like we all probably did; young guys with some prospect. Now what has just happened? Hasn’t she just dashed the whole prospect? That man is over three times her age. What could she possible be with him?”
“A second wife,” I said, “and by extension the seventh of his six children.”
“Ben, be serious for once. I know I play and all, let’s put aside that reputation, but imagine what such old men make these girls become: look at the way she treated me.” Darlington whined.
“That is the sort of world we live in today. My friend, just lick your wound in silence.” I wasn’t intent on being sarcastic; I just wanted him to know it wasn’t about his ego. It’s been weeks since the incident at the bar and somehow we have managed to put all that behind us, but when it came to telling each others the truth, we never minced words.
“It’s not the world, it is the society we live in; some men have simply refused to get over polygamy. Imagine Mr. Gbenga, his last daughter just graduated from the university, but here he is.” Dozie said.
“You are kidding me.” Darlington yelled.
“But it’s true.” I supported. He turned to me wide-eyed.
“I wash away every respect for that man from today,” Dozie said mournfully.
“That ogre, he must have charmed that girl, how else could she have accepted such a…” Darlington was still fighting his revulsion, and maybe his loss.
“I think it’s consequent to materialism, when they can buy everything from finger nails to teats; they will do anything for more money, girls these are obviously overwhelmed,” I said. Darlington was laughing like a jackass.
“No,” Dozie said. Dozie is annoyingly considerate; I knew that before long he would be wanting to see every side of this issue. Goke I know would have supported the old man in the name of world-of-free-choices.
“What else would make such a beautiful girl walk in day time with that man that could get cardiac arrested any moment? Can’t you see she has given up all elements of shame? What is that powerful, if not money?” I argued.
“Ben, you should ask what such an old man is still looking for in a child like that. Where is his shame? Don’t be surprised this man married very early in life, he never really had fun…”Dozie said thoughtfully.
“So, you think he is now doing what he couldn’t do then?” I interjected.
“Probably,” Dozie replied.
“Listen, Ben; there is no probably, or excuses for an ancient of days like that, whatever he is here, to descend and take what we should have,” Darlington said doggedly, “I insist, that man must have done something.”
“Darlington, you have a point, and I feel Dozie might be right: may be the man didn’t do his time as a young man, now he has an old wife who was probably selected for him by his parents, who is now finally finished in his eyes, after thirty years, maybe, and six adult children. And here comes this juicy young girl of his dream that he will give everything to have, and, of course, the girl wants to live big too and here is all the money she will need to; the man has influence as well. So the charm, if there is any, is a simple one made from their needs,” I said rhetorically and looked at both of them like some philosopher.
“Would you do that when you got married?” Darlington asked me.
“No.” I said defensively.
“Then that is rubbish. Life is about choice and decision. That old man made a decision long ago, he should just live by it,” Darlington suggested.
Just then Mr. Gbenga returned and we had to adjourn the discussion.
Dozie and I were laughing over what Pat had said about four guys like us hanging out all by themselves every Friday night, that there was something ‘not-straight’ about it. Darlington was going to say we should leave without Goke. Then everyone suddenly went hush. She had what it took to stop any man in his tracks, and I thought she knew it. We must all have seen her at the same.
“Hi.” She said to Darlington.
Darlington had this gift; they all talk to him first, even if there were a million of us.
“Hi beauty, what can we do you for?” his ladies’ man smile flashed, and his right hand instinctively reached for his collar twitching the tie as he stood up. He probably forgot he was only a visitor to our office.
“Stephanie, this way,” Pat called at the young lady.
“Oh Pat, thanks,” she seemed relieved and waved Darlington down, “I was going to ask of her,” she explained as she acrossed to meet Pat at the other end of the office. There was something uppity about her manners. They said something to each other and the young lady was allowed to go into the inner office to meet our boss, Mr. Gbenga.
“Who is she, Pat?” I asked rather impatiently.
“Mr. Gbenga’s friend.” She said rather casually.
“What?” I look at my men and saw the same dampened expression registered on their faces.
“What kind of friend?” Dozie asked incredulously.
“You might want to go in and ask him, pastor.” Pat retorted. Dozie, Pat and I are colleagues, but for some imprecise reasons being at each other’s throat appeared to define the working relationship between those two.
“God, but that girl is old enough to be his last born,” I exclaimed. Darlington was suddenly as humble as a lamb pulled out of a pot of cold pap.
“Isn’t that shocking?” Dozie said in anguish.
“Why won’t these old men just leave our young girls alone, they have lived their time naa,” Darlington said obviously upset when he spoke. But I knew there was more to it.
And just like I thought, this was going to become another big discussion, since guys don’t gossip.
“What are ladies even becoming theses days?” Dozie asked in his usual pious manner.
“He- hey, don’t even start with women now, ok?” Pat snapped at him, “why don’t you just go get married and mold your wife into that angel you are looking for everywhere so we all can see?”
“You will be that woman and I will start with molding your mouth.” Dozie replied squarely.
“You?” she laughed with mirth, “Dozie, I will simply turn you into my wrapper and sit on your flat head.” She said as she ran out of the office with her ringing cell phone, leaving us in a pool of laughter. Dozie made a face instead of saying another word.
Then Mr. Gbenga and the young lady came out holding hands. We watched in silence as they walked out of the office. The old man could have been displaying a hundred meters Olympic medal from the way he showed off, to us?
“But serious, do you know what I thought when that lady walked in?” Darlington said once they were out of earshot.
“Darlington, leave that issue, you think many things when it comes to women,” I said laughing.
“Okay, forget my thoughts,” he said prevaricating, “ now imagine yourself liking this girl, as sweet and as beautiful as she is, and you want to get to know her like we all probably did; young guys with some prospect. Now what has just happened? Hasn’t she just dashed the whole prospect? That man is over three times her age. What could she possible be with him?”
“A second wife,” I said, “and by extension the seventh of his six children.”
“Ben, be serious for once. I know I play and all, let’s put aside that reputation, but imagine what such old men make these girls become: look at the way she treated me.” Darlington whined.
“That is the sort of world we live in today. My friend, just lick your wound in silence.” I wasn’t intent on being sarcastic; I just wanted him to know it wasn’t about his ego. It’s been weeks since the incident at the bar and somehow we have managed to put all that behind us, but when it came to telling each others the truth, we never minced words.
“It’s not the world, it is the society we live in; some men have simply refused to get over polygamy. Imagine Mr. Gbenga, his last daughter just graduated from the university, but here he is.” Dozie said.
“You are kidding me.” Darlington yelled.
“But it’s true.” I supported. He turned to me wide-eyed.
“I wash away every respect for that man from today,” Dozie said mournfully.
“That ogre, he must have charmed that girl, how else could she have accepted such a…” Darlington was still fighting his revulsion, and maybe his loss.
“I think it’s consequent to materialism, when they can buy everything from finger nails to teats; they will do anything for more money, girls these are obviously overwhelmed,” I said. Darlington was laughing like a jackass.
“No,” Dozie said. Dozie is annoyingly considerate; I knew that before long he would be wanting to see every side of this issue. Goke I know would have supported the old man in the name of world-of-free-choices.
“What else would make such a beautiful girl walk in day time with that man that could get cardiac arrested any moment? Can’t you see she has given up all elements of shame? What is that powerful, if not money?” I argued.
“Ben, you should ask what such an old man is still looking for in a child like that. Where is his shame? Don’t be surprised this man married very early in life, he never really had fun…”Dozie said thoughtfully.
“So, you think he is now doing what he couldn’t do then?” I interjected.
“Probably,” Dozie replied.
“Listen, Ben; there is no probably, or excuses for an ancient of days like that, whatever he is here, to descend and take what we should have,” Darlington said doggedly, “I insist, that man must have done something.”
“Darlington, you have a point, and I feel Dozie might be right: may be the man didn’t do his time as a young man, now he has an old wife who was probably selected for him by his parents, who is now finally finished in his eyes, after thirty years, maybe, and six adult children. And here comes this juicy young girl of his dream that he will give everything to have, and, of course, the girl wants to live big too and here is all the money she will need to; the man has influence as well. So the charm, if there is any, is a simple one made from their needs,” I said rhetorically and looked at both of them like some philosopher.
“Would you do that when you got married?” Darlington asked me.
“No.” I said defensively.
“Then that is rubbish. Life is about choice and decision. That old man made a decision long ago, he should just live by it,” Darlington suggested.
Just then Mr. Gbenga returned and we had to adjourn the discussion.
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