Page 35 of Not My Type
“If me lef yasso and dress up and come back me look betta than yuh man enuh,” he says and I look at the man.
When will he stop?
Second hand embarrassment a murda me.
She laughs. “You could never look like my papi,” I look at my phone. The ladies start cracking up again...
“You poppy cya wine like me?” he asks, wining his waist. Somebody cya lick him ina him head?
“He sure can,” she shots back.
“Mi can shoot yuh poppy enuh,” just the way how he’s struggling to say ‘papi’ in her accent and fails is pissing me off.
I stand to my feet. I’m not about to watch them argue any longer. “I’m gonna get some fresh air, when you’re done let me know,” I say before I walk out.
14. GRANDEUR
Zara
I look down from the balcony at the persons moving to and fro, minding the business that pays them. I hope.
Says Zara who’s watching them.
“One and drive!” a slender man exclaims and I shake my head. There are only two persons seated in his car. Typical Jamaican taxi men – it’s always one and drive. Dem car neva empty yet.
“Bingy!” someone shrieks and he snaps his head around eagerly— so, greedy for passengers. He runs to the woman and take her bags. She’s probably in her thi— Zara the readers nuh affi know every soul’s age or unuh fass and wah know?
The door pulls behind me grabbing my attention. I look around and notice that it’s the Latina. Obviously, she’s just taking a private call because the plait isn’t finished. I turn my head, shifting my focus to Bingy—minding my business. Are you?
Somewhat... I’ll admit.
“Make sure they have D’usse there,” I hear her say. She’s four feet away from me, of course I’m going to hear her conversation.
“Did my father call you?” she asks gingerly. “He said he was trying..” She sounds timid out of nowhere. What the hell? She steps forward— even closer to where I’m planted.
Dadadee…
“Okay. I’ll tell him that,” she nods. Then she looks at me.
Thank God
A few seconds pass and she’s silent— clearly, her boyfriend is talking. Her mood suddenly soars. She tilts her head, smiling at nothing. The lady a get sweet talk enuh.
“Todavía no me he peinado,” I hear her say. What? I finally look at her and she’s blushing even harder than I thought.
“Okay, te amo papi,” she’s now staring at her feet crossed.
I gulp. She walks back inside. Goods really in love I must say. I just hope that man reciprocates it and give her the love that she deserves. Malik didn’t requite my love—not even for once. A sigh leaves my lips.
Fifteen minutes of scrolling through Instagram. I save a few outfit inspo then Clova calls me inside. “The hair done now,” she tells me and I smile sweetly then my eyes finds the Latina. She’s even more gorgeous now. I take a seat in front Clova, watching as she gawks at herself in the mirror.
“It’s so cute. This ate,” she smiles and adjust her hat on her head. It’s definitely the icing on the cake.
“Hey Mama, can you take a picture for me please?” She asks me and I nod.
She hands me her iPhone, it’s the latest model too, with a picture of her and her boyfriend on the case. It’s a no face no case type of picture. After taking about ten pictures for her I finally hand her phone to her. Her smile grows as her eyes twinkles with appreciation.
“I can’t wait to send these to him,” she chuckles to herself.
