zaks wri(tings) #5
… Where was I again? Ah yes. My ghetto guardian angel.
Now, A visual description for those that actually care. My slightly melanated ghetto guardian angel was dressed to the nines in an overworn grey umbro tracksuit, yellowed white socks and black air force.
(I would say he had a high top but to be honest Bart Simpson’s haircut would probably have been a better comparison.)
As he approaches, the smell of Lynx Africa (1) suffocates me and all those around him.
See, my mum taught me to never talk to strangers (especially those in black air force) but I was stranded and thought today I’d make an exception. I assume an intimidating stance and switch on my bad gyal/tom boy voice.
He says “I can help you”
I say “Please. I mean safe … Go on?”
He says “We can try sell it for parts”
I say “Yeah. Already tried that”
(No I hadn’t.)
He says “My uncle has a shop”
I say “Good for him”
He says “Yo, what I’m trying to say is he will defo buy it”
I say “Okay cool…”
“…Where is this magic shop then cah I’ve been all over this dutty area, visited every phone shop and I just want to get home”
He says “Seen seen. It’s just down the road”
I say “Alright well if you are telling the truth and he does buy it … i’ll give you half what I make. Oh and if I follow you … we are taking main roads. I would give you my phone but I don’t know you enough to trust you with”
(But you trust him enough to follow him through an unknown area out of ends yeah? Kmt.)
The next part of my journey involved a lot more walking, dodging dodgy alleyways and a failed “drug” deal (2).
Our walk gives us enough time to drop our stranger danger defences (and the key in-between my fingers) and actually get to learn a bit about each other. He actually was a pretty cool dude. He had dreams of starting a tech company. (Love that for him.)
After countless steps, we arrive at his uncle’s “shop”.
I have never (And I repeat. NEVER) seen an internet cafe that sells snacks, wifi, phones, household goods and video games all inna di same place (3). He takes my phone and leaves me to go look for his uncle.
As I stand there hopeless (and phoneless), I think of all my poor decisions that led me to this point.
After a prolonged amount of time deeping life, he finally returns and says “I’ve got some good news and bad news … the good news is I sold the phone. The bad news is a only got a tenner for it”
A tenner is all I needed to get home so I take the money from him and give him an over enthusiastic spud.
But wait … I made a promise.
I run to a local corner shop and come back with two five pound notes. He rejects the fiver the first time then reluctantly gives in when he realises I won’t take no for an answer. We spud again and part ways.
I buy myself a vegan sausage roll, top up my oyster with the remaining £4 and go home.
And that folks was a tale about a time where I had no money and had to sell my phone in order to get home.
Footnotes and foolishness
- I have nothing against Lynx Africa. (So male humans expect another gift set from me this xmas.)
- I use quotation marks as he was literally trying to sell herbs (as in thyme and oregano) to some kids on the block. Smh.
- There were also these grey carpeted stairs in the back that lead to jah knows where. (In hindsight, maybe they were selling seggs too.)
And Yes. I realise £4 was merely enough to even get home but thankfully an unpaid invoice came through and we didn’t get evicted.
Thanks to all you that held in there waiting for part 3.
Stay safe and make good choices.
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