This is a fictional story of a young man who slept with a lady from Jehovah’s Witnesses.
She came to share the gospel with him but ended up smoking, drinking and having coitus with the stranger.
“who be that?”
i asked authoritatively to whoever was behind, banging on my rickety wooden door on a cold wet wednesday.
“it’s me rebecca. i have something for you”.
“jaz in” i commanded
she came in, waving her hand through the thick grey smoke hovering all over my room the size of a match box.
i was on my second stick of well wrapped marijuana. my eyes half closed and my voice as thick as a mad man’s dreadlocks.
“hello sir, my name is rebecca. can i have five minutes of your time? i came to share the goodnews of Jehovah”
“rebecca my name is chuks. please drop your umbrella behind the door and have a seat.”
i stretched to reach the center table for the remote of my music player to turn down the volume of 2pac’s “hit em up” blaring.
“what can i offer you?”
“i’m okay brother, thanks”
“nah you’re not. you look tensed sister” i said as I puffed faint smoke above her head.
“okay, anything would do”
“anything? hahaha that’s cool”
on the table is a black nylon, half full of dried leaves and a few rumpled rizzler here and there.
“here, help yourself” i said, pointing at the nylon.
she chuckled shyly, drew the nylon closer and made herself a few wraps of warri weed. her wrapping prowess made me smile mischievously. i’m impressed.
together, like marley and the beetles we smoked and talked about music, sex and the gosple. our arguments turned into laughter and then into rants and tantrums which came with more loud laughs.
rebecca or rather becca as i now call her was before me like eve with sexy leaves covering her chest and below. that’s how i see her now you know. highness. or lust. whatever.
“would you like a drink”?
i offer her a can of black bullet. then two. and lastly the third one. cheers.
by now she was hungry for food but not as much as i was hungry for her. i want to have her, so bad.
nonetheless, we settled for the beans and plantain i had made earlier. food so delicious i wondered what could taste better.
just immediately after clearing the table i came in to see becca, my unknown visitor on my one-slice-of-bread bed half naked.
“what comes after red oil beans and plantain?” she asked.
“a full fledged brown skin smoking hot becca” i replied as i dove in to have a taste of my toppings in human form.