Men make great friends when there’s no attraction.
“Princess Diana walked through our department today. Come and see commotion in the store from the customers. Al Fayed escorted her round with a huge grin of achievement on his face. We the staff had to stand there like soldiers stretching our necks trying to catch a glimpse of her.” I say excitedly.
“When are you coming to visit me?” David interrupts my story asking for the umpteenth time as we chat on the phone.
“One day” I reply. “My Harrods store re-approval is coming up…….,” I continue without really registering the question.
Unlike all my other men friends, David has some advanced skills which means we hit it off straight away. Remembering names is not one of his skills. I discover he’s not good with names. We converse with so much ease, we’ve become very good buddies. We always have stories to tell each other. Stories from our past lives or something from present day.
Months later I meet David’s sister.
I finally agree to pop round by David’s place today. He shares his flat with a friend. I find his place in Streatham quite easily and ring the door bell. David opens the door.
“Baby babisco, how now? he greets looking a bit uncomfortable. He’s not his usual enthusiastic self. I breeze straight into the lounge and see a pretty young lady sitting on the sofa. The lounge is warm and better furnished than ours in Bromley which consists of just a sofa and a TV set.
“Oh hi!” I say trying to hide my surprise thinking, “I’m almost certain he said his flatmate was a bloke”.
I quickly follow David into the kitchen.
“Who’s that, who’s that?” I ask nosily.
“She’s my sister,” replies David.
“I didn’t know you had a sister living in the UK, ” I respond moving back to the lounge to say a proper hello to his sister.
I flop next to her on the sofa and chat away, “How’s your day been? The weather’s not too bad today, what do you think?” David’s sister is as friendly as someone I’ve just met can be. At some point during our chat, I start my sentence with, “Your brother….” .
Before I finish the sentence, David’s sister interrupts me and asks, “Who’s my brother?”
“David. Are you not brother and sister?” I whisper puzzled.
“Is that what he told you?” She replies with a thunderous expression on her face.
“He’s not your brother? Both of you kinda look like siblings though.” I say, thinking they do look alike somehow.
What’s life without humour that’s not at my expense? Hilarious!
The evening henceforth is a bit tense and I’m mischievously enjoying myself. I chat nonchalantly about my day with ease. I started the day nice and early. I’d gone to get my hair washed and set at my hairdressers place in Brixton. After that, I did what I usually do on my day off, pick an area and wonder around the shops. This time around it was Croydon shopping centre, chosen deliberately because it’s a bus ride from there to Streatham.
It’s soon time to go and Toro and his “sister” escort me to Brixton on the bus. His “sister” has been mostly silent since I put my foot in it. I’m guessing she’s a bit confused about the nature of my friendship with her “brother”.
On the way to Brixton, he mutters under his breath, “oooh Kehinde you’ve got me into trouble now”.
I burst out laughing!
Men! I shake my head. “Next time don’t lie.”