The Handsome Nigerian Doctor

So it’s another day at the office and me and my team mates are sitting at the little round table by my colleauges desk (you know the one who ate all the olives?).

We’re sitting there leisurely chit-chatting. One of the Seniors (lets call him Joe) has come over, so I suggest he read a short story that I have just written.

My colleague – The One Who Ate All The Olives, is happily chatting away about something or other. I'm silently hoping he would stay quiet so Joe can concentrate, I want some feedback.

Joe gets distracted.

Somehow the conversation switches to The Handsome Nigerian Doctor. I roll my eyes. Him again. The Handsome (so I am told) Nigerian Doctor attends Joe’s church. Joe has told me on numerous occasions that whenever he sees The Handsome Nigerian Doctor, he always thinks of how this Doctor and I would really get on.

I casually ask Joe if this Doctor is actually really handsome, as guys have a tendency to describe other guys as good-looking if the aim is to match make. I have seen some guys that have been referred to as ‘handsome’ and somehow the two did not match up. Joe looks offended. he says there is in fact many a young fair maidens who have been chasing him hoping to be the next potential Doctor’s Wife.

Hmmm, I pause.

The Handsome Nigerian Doctor. Relatively young, popular, nice personality, oodles of women gracing him with their perfumed scented selves, and he isn’t interested in any of them? There has to be something wrong with him. Maybe he's an ex convict. I wonder if his legs are real? Maybe he has a wooden one and prefers to showcase it like those pirates of old, along with a patch over his eye and an actual real life hook for a hand. Axe murderer, Serial killer…. Joe cuts me off mid thought.

He says there is something about this Doctor that he thinks would make him and me a perfect match. Joe says I’m laid back and easy going – maybe he’s trying to say he thinks I wouldn't be one of those stress giving, ever complaining, always have a problem with one thing or another women? No comment.

We begin to get lively and animated as the team put in their two bits about the situation. One colleague shouts out to tell me its my decision, that I shouldn’t be pressured into anything. Another says it’s a good act of kindness, and I never know what could happen. The One Who Ate All The Olives told me that I’m not getting any younger, so I better get a move on.

I shake my head in disbelief, as I cannot believe we are actually having this conversation.

I find myself beginning to wonder about The Handsome Nigerian Doctor, my curiosity has been stirred. Joe is adamant that I should meet him, and as you read this, I am sure he is conducting some plan to try to arrange some kind of choice happening…

Watch this space.

Who Ate All The Olives?

Yesterday, I went over to my colleagues desk to see if he fancied going to the canteen, but he'd already been. He was raving on about how there was new management and to testify, he held up his salad pot freshly filled with olives.

This was the highlight of my day so far. How better can it get than olives at the salad bar in the staff canteen? I had missed the lunch time opening hours so was resigned to wait until the next day to try out the new additions.

So, understandably, I had been looking forward to this all day. Waiting for noon to hit so I could make my daily visit to the staff canteen and fill up. I loved the salad bar. There was such a variety to chose from. Curried chickpeas, beetroot, sweetcorn, mint cubed cucumbers and so much more - plus the new addition.

I looked at the time and it was fifteen minutes past noon. I rushed down to the canteen and looked eagerly for the olives I had heard much about. I was baffled when I couldn't see them anywhere. I glimpsed an empty bowl that left tell tale signs. An empty bowl save for a lone silver spoon. I picked up the spoon and scooped, only to retrieve some balsamic vinegar and two squashed olives. Clearly disappointed, I filled my container with the usual and returned back to my floor.

I went over to my colleague to express my disappointment. On his desk there two huge pots of salad filled with a few bits and bobs, and to my surprise what seemed to be the whole of the olives that had left the bowl empty.

'You greedy pig!' I screamed. 'You took all the olives! It was you!'

He was wide eyed and speechless and begrudgingly allowed me three black olives from one of his pots and three green ones from the other. I couldn't believe it! We had a laugh about it anyway, especially when he relayed how in his excitement to fill his salad pot, he had made quite a mess.

'There were olives everywhere!' He screeched, 'They were flying all over the place!'.

We both chuckled at the picture. I couldn't stay mad at him long anyway - when he had finished his lunch he relayed he was feeling rather ill. Holding his stomach he moaned 'I should have given you more than six, I think I ate too many olives'.....

Time to Catch some Zzzzz's

Well, it's way past my bed time. I've had some, I would say fun, but that's just cliche, rather I've had an interesting evening trying to get my blog set up. Am sure there will be some changes along the way to the general set up and site navigation, but for now, I am about ready to fly the coup and find a nice nest in a tree. OK, so my bed is more inviting right now than a nest in a tree, but you get what I mean...

Funny, I was talking to a work colleague today, and he was telling me about his latest best buy - an electric blanket. Man, he made it sound like heaven had arrived right here on earth in the form of heat transmitting wires encased in a soft quilt that, as Americans would say, keeps the 'tush' warm and puts a smile on your face before the sheep start jumping the fence.

Thinking about that electric blanket has me reaching for my hot water bottle just as I type, ready to fill my own simplified heat omitting transmitter with freshly boiled hot water.

Doesn't sound as glam as an electric blanket dah-ling, but beggars can't be choosers eh!

Have a good night!