I don’t know why I’m starting this today but huge thanks to Ayobola Raji for forcing my hand. And the muse, the one I call best gehl for encouraging me to do a story about my Best Man duties. Finally for today, happy married life to my dear pal of many years, Tunji Jaiyeola. Your home is blessed mate.
Adjusting my gold coloured bow tie, I looked around the well-lit sitting area reserved for the couple and the train. The scenery already won me over: fresh rose flowers, a sweet creamy smell, the lighting was superb and the interior of the Church was what I call ‘splendide’. The walls, immaculately white coloured, matched with the POP ceiling. The whole scenery was Edenic, the exact one needed for a wedding.
I was looking round the auditorium, turning not only my neck, but the whole of my body. A light tap on my shoulder and I came right back to my senses, and to the task at hand, the best man job. I looked up to see my friend of twenty years staring right into my eyes, a little concerned.
“Babe hasn’t come. Service shouda started now”, the groom, my friend of more than two decades started. “She knows I hate this thing with her and disregard for time. I’m worried, this Pastor is a no-nonsense person…”
Dude was fuming, I was gawking – beautiful Church interior, gaily dressed guests, a few conquered sisters who we never thought would be at the wedding and all other ‘side attractions’.
“Dotun, I’m talking to you”, he said a bit more forcibly, stressing the ‘u’ in the ‘you’. I then turned fully to him. “Calm down oko iyawo. I’ll handle this”, I said without an idea of how to go about it.
“You well at all? What is it you are looking at sef. You just dey look around like person wey no enter better place before”
“Sharap dia ode. I’m looking to see friends and enemies and where they all are seated. There might be people to take care of and I don spot some already. The babes whose hearts and heads you played suwe with before deciding to settle for Dorothy”.
My friend’s eyes grew bigger at that instant and followed mine to the section where a bevy of beauties were seated. He looked a tad surprised to find the two people I was referring to in a tete-a-tete. I called him and told him to be rest assured no one was going to create a scene. I had successfully deflected the attack that was coming for my obvious indiscretion of gawking and looking around like a fish out of water.
I impulsively looked at my new wristwatch, one I launched on this beautiful September morning. The bride was exactly twenty three minutes late already. I brought out my secret phone, the one whose number no one knew and I dialed her. She answered on the third ring.
“Congrats Dor-dor. Your husband is about to lose his head in Church, he don dey para o”.
“Dotun? Whose number is this?”
I rolled my eyes at the silly question. Of what use is that to her?
Get your big behind here jor, olodo oshi
“Is that what is important to you? We’re waiting sweetheart. Get here fast you cute daughter of Mama Eve”
“We’re driving in already Dot. Just hang on, and tell my baby he’s safe”
She ended the call and I looked at the groom, who was eagerly waiting for my ‘verdict’. I smiled and he smiled too, like the mumu that he is.
“See ogbeni, I don tell you before say your mumu head just panics for no justifiable reason. Babe is around already”. I had hardly finished taking a dig at him when the speaker came to life with “To God Be The Glory”. My friend grinned, winked and smiled as we started proceedings.
Dorothy looking every bit like what a bride should was all smiles as her Dad led her to the front. Her gown was very lovely: a simple tube with a little jacket to cover her shoulders, the trend of excess make-up was one she bucked, very light one and my Dor-dor looked extra beautiful.
Sam already owns her, so I looked beyond her to the Chief Bridesmaid and I stopped breathing. The mumu Sam was smiling and grinning and did not even see me again. I did not care too, I had been eager to know how the “best girl”, as I called her, would look. I was not disappointed. It was to me a competition for the better look between her and the bride. She looked every inch the one who was breathtaking, the exact type that would always distract CR7 from taking a goal bound shot or drain Usain Bolt of all his energy, speed and stamina.
With Sam and Dorothy before the officiating minister, the Chief Bridesmaid, I mean the very beautiful and elegantly dressed ‘best girl’ took her position beside me. As a regular best man, I had met different babes partner me on the job. I knew some and met some at the wedding but this new one, looks as pretty as strange as she is, a strange kind of beauty. I looked at her and stretched out my well-manicured hands to say hello.
“Hello good morning. Honoured to meet you, name is Dotun”.
Keeping a straight face, stingy with a smile, but still the most beautiful Eve I have met in a while, she managed to respond with a nod. I looked from her to my outstretched hand, a message she got. She managed to take the handshake, with a grumble that I heard – “hello, I’m Cynthia”.
I withdrew my hand after the exchange of pleasantries. A bit of annoyance and irritation came over me for her attitude, and I just forgot about her good looks. Of what use is her good looks without a good attitude. Abeg park well jor. With that, I brought out my blackberry and sent a message to my partner in crime.