How It Began

October 16, 2013 § 6 Comments

He entered and calmly perched on his usual seat; a corner seat with expansive views of the gulf and bustling of downtown Osu. It also had clear views of Kotoka, which was his last stop before this perch. Accra hadn’t felt more numb and stale. It was as if every micron of soul had been sucked up and reading to take off on that runway at Kotoka.

The somewhat usually cozy wooden slats were now an unease like that of cold park bench. All his senses were acutely trained on what he could only assume was Kotoka’s runway far off in the distance as his tense senses had now quietly floated him to the open-air balcony. He’d all but forgotten about the cousin who worked at this hotel’s roof-top restaurant.

He had also forgotten she worked there as well. She was a newbie waitress he’d had a promising flirty chat with two weeks prior…until she eagerly showed him a pic of her boyfriend. She had also ignored all his texts, IMs, and calls after what he imagined was a clear interest. A week on, he’d accepted maybe it really was just his imagination afterall.

Now, who is she?

She has that slight build of a high school sprinter: very little or barely-there hips; a sinewy and athletically-toned physique without that usual bulge or rippling definitions. She has a freshly-churned cocoa butter look. She has these gorgeous brows which seemed to umbrella a beautiful cascading symmetry of deep brown eyes, rounded cheekbones, those full, clam-shaped lips. She…also had an unusual inate beauty: you inquisitively appreciated it from a distance, and are awed and amazed when within retina view. She also had a laughter that could be annoying but quickly grows on you.

He could hear that laughter. She was working that evening. He’d almost forgetten about her. But his increasingly worrying thoughts were now lasered on that runway and what seemed a never-ending delay for that Dakar-JFK flight he’d been waiting for. The muffled voice from his supportive cousin was a welcomed distraction but he needed more.

So it was back across the night-tinted open-paned glass doors and back to the cozy and empty restaurant.
She saw him. She remembered him. He was too cerebral not to notice. He didn’t care to acknowlege her. If she could ignore his overtures, he could do her one better, he surmised.
Tense, quiet moments went by with seconds feeling like minutes. He intentionally spoke only in Gã knowing very well she didn’t speak any. He wanted her to see a master play her game. It was cold. It was harsh. It was also far too funny an act that the stoic cousin was now bursting with laughter.

In moments, after nearly an hour nervously looking up and out for a take-off that wasn’t happening, it did!
The wheels were still down. He was relieved; cousin was extatic at watching a family member take off in flight. She was left out and stood almost in quiet repose. Some rather child-like repetitive eye-rolls at him were clear signals she wasn’t amused about being ignored. It was very funny as the teasing had now been repositioned at the bar, which had been her only comfort from him.

He knew she’d suffered enough. She needed relief…and he knew exactly what she needed.

He called her aroud the bar to listen to a country version of “I can love you like that.” She gleefully obliged like that of a toddler passed on for chances at double dutch…and all of a sudden getting that relieving invite to hop in.

She stood next to him as the youtube vid loaded. He held her small waist firmly as they all listened. The words weren’t easily discernable. So he paused and restarted, only this time, he sang out the lyrics to her…as if he was really was saying to her:
“I can love you like that. I will make you my world. Move heaven and earth, if you were my girl.”

It was brilliant!

He gently tapped her lower back as he sang to her like only a crooner could. She seemed to love every bit of that moment. He knew he was a good flirt, but on this, even he knew he’d given it a good end as work rudely punctuated their lovely moment. But was it the end?

He had not moments replaced himself on his prefered seat before she called out to ask if he’d accompany her downstairs for a minute. He needn’t go. But he knew why she asked. She knew why she asked him to come along. But neither expected anything thereafter. This was very evident in what felt the quietest and longest moment of the evening as they both stood waiting for the elevator down.

In the lift, she stood closest to the back; and he, the door. Neither spoke. But the silence was deafening. She seemed to glow in this moment. He knew…she knew. He glanced. She spied. But neither moved. This was all in one floor; they had 6 more to go.

Entering the 5th, he let go of his inhibitions and reached for her hand. He pulled her into him. She looked down, but willingly obliged. His hands went from clasping her waist to firmly holding her…as if shielding her from a wintery blast. She still looked down.

Their noses touched. He had led the way up to this point, but it seemed she was still unwilling to take that final plunge.
They held this pose for moments. Then the gentle shoulder touches followed. As those progressed, so went the tighter embrace. He could feel her rapidly beating heart. It was a very tender and soothing moment. It was as if theirs was akin to an airport departure/arrival embrace.

And as it seemed they’d inched to their crescendo.. ding!
She peeled off calmly and straightened out her blouse. He finally took a breath and waited intently at the lift’s door.

Upon her return, she knew what he meant to her. He knew what she meant to him. It wasn’t some dirty hook-up. Theirs was going to be a new chapter neither had hoped for nor anticipated, nor could they predict its future.

But for the 7 flights back to the roof-top restaurant, two very lucky people got a near-perfect start to their romance.

Accra felt soulful again, and a man could grin proudly about the best kiss he’d had and the equally unforgetable and mesmerizing beauty who had stolen his heart after their unusual and unanticipated confluence of events that night.


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§ 6 Responses to How It Began

  • Maku says:

    Mike, an African Queen has finally stolen your heart. I hope you continue to bask in the tenderness of love. Keep the diary going.

  • Jeena Effoe says:

    Sweeeeeeet and beautiful ❤

  • Naa says:

    Welcome back! I used to often pass to look for new entries but stopped a while back. I was pleasantly surprised to see the new entry, and glad it crossed my mind to check.

  • Sandra says:

    WOW, Just found your blog today and must say you are a gifted writer. I loved your detailed description of your beautiful girl and the emotions unveiled in this entry. Felt like i was reading a good book and did not want it to end. I will be reading the rest of your entries, please keep them coming!

  • Dela says:

    More, more, tell us more.

    • Mike says:

      lol nah.. I like stories. Boy meets girl; boy loves girl. I liked how this began and wrote about it- emphasis on ‘began.’ The whole story is probably less disney-esque than we’d all like :-/

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