Wednesday, 17 May 2017

BLACK GLOVES, MURDER, AND AN OVERACTIVE IMAGINATION



Okay this time, I really WAS minding my own business; not my fault everything seems to offer its own story these days. Bright and early this morning, I was waiting for a bus to convey me to work. This driver pulled up and said he was going my way. Given that my bag was heavy (lady's prerogative huh?) I hopped in immediately and sat back with a palpable sigh of relief as I smugly contemplated other road users still awaiting transportation. Did I mention I was the only passenger in the bus? Next thing, the driver puts up his hand to signal more passengers and as I looked over at him, I saw 'em! His hands were completely covered in ugly, black, leather gloves despite the sweltering heat of the day. Maybe I'm out of touch with the times but sincerely I've only ever seen black leather gloves on television or in novels; and even then, only in cooler climates.
Now I wouldn't have worried but if you're a fan of thriller novels or movies then you know that the bad guy always, always, always wears black leather gloves! You know, the killer who murders the co-ed in her bed; the friendly neighborhood burglar who breaks the door when no one's home; the kidnapper who steals up to his victims from behind and yanks them off into the bushes...You get the picture!
At this point my mind was already working overtime as I sized him up. He was a big, burly guy; well over six feet with ham-sized fists. I wasn't too eager to be seated next to him for the next 45 minutes. I'm mean I'm all for girl power and all but that guy could probably smash every last one of my bones with one hand without even breaking a sweat!
So I conveniently 'remembered' that I had forgotten my keys at home. As soon as he slid to a halt, I couldn't get out of that vehicle fast enough.
The morale of the story?
1. What you wear does matter.
2. Momma was right: look before you leap; and yes, apparently that applies to buses too.


Learn the lesson and share the story

©2017 by Sherina Okoye




No comments:

Post a Comment

CONFESSIONS OF A BOOKAHOLIC: FLASHBACK

(Recollections from Law School Days) Something I've never confessed to a soul: “You’re a bookworm,” my roommate accused as though ...