It's only a number T.Notes...

I'm abit melancholic right now. Also knackered and seriously needing the bed after an early morning shift. But i need to put down this note just for me,and hey maybe you too.

Two things happened today that had to do with random digits. The first happened as i woke up by 3am and began an hurried preparation to get to Tesco for an early morning shift. On my way rushing out of the flat,i realized i'd forgotten to confirm that my staff i.d card was in my bag. #Dang!I need the i.d card because it has my staff i.d code which i need to access entry doors and get work done. But i was running late,so i took a moment to recall the number i'd been punching in frequently for the past year.I figured i had a good idea of the number,so i rushed off to work without checking for the i.d card. I got to work and indeed i had the number memorized quite right. I keyed into the building and work for the rest of the morning was a breeze. When my shift ended, i clocked out and left the building. It was afterall,only just numbers, 6digits to be precise.

I got home tired and found the mail i'd been informed should come in today. It was a huge package from the office,canary wharf.

It had inside P45&46 forms, information about my options on employee benefits&investments, annual bonuses, itinerary for a posh induction week, whom i would speak to on my first day in the office, stuff about company gadgets - mobiles,laptops,etc. And at the very top of the letter was the important detail i'd also been expecting. A six digit number which would grant me staff access into the towering bank's building. I didn't do my signature "whoop whoop holler" or scream.I only heaved a sigh of relief and called the number i was directed to call to set up an employee bank account for me. The lady on the other end was friendly and asked calmly: "Can i get your staff i.d please?" I looked up the 6digits on the top of the letter and recited it. She responded, "Perfect. Welcome to xyz Bank T.Notes". She then proceeded to set up the required ish and ooch in preparation for my first day. It was afterall,only just numbers, 6digits to be precise.

Did i ever mention that the Bank also sponsored a new work visa application for me? They handled all the documentation,paid for it and sorted it all out. All i did was reply their mails and send them my passport. This is the quiet:...I'm only just a guy,you know. That's what I said to myself in the mirror this morning knowing fully well that might have been my last day at tesco. "Why are so good to me? I'm really truly just a screwed up,messed up guy who's struggling to keep it all together.". I know people who've been here longer than me and are still struggling to find even a part-time job. And look at me and and my big head totally jumping all the red tape and processes.

God blesses us for a reason...i know my reason and my cross. Its like how those old cartoons used to say, "with power comes great responsibilities.". I fully well know that. But all the same...i'm really only just a guy. But a new day is ahead,and i'm not kidding myself to think its all going to be a stroll in the park. I still have hard prayers yet unfulfilled and You should see the caliber of Cambridge, UCL and LBS guys (n ladies) Smart ass dorks,&jocks the bank also took up!BUT GAME ON, BRING IT ON!This Naija no dey carry last!
I used to work with a Nigerian chic back in Tesco who's now booked a flight back home for september. In her own bitter words, "The U.K has nothing to offer international students.".I disagree. And its not just about the U.K or brains. Its the God behind it all. So like supercool neefemi, i pray for everyone who has a similar need to which i had. I pray not just that your needs are met, but they are met with a testimony that will astound anyone who hears it. God bless you...God never fails, hang on, and DO EVERYTHING TO MAKE THAT DREAM HAPPEN. IT IS POSSIBLE...afterall, i am just a guy, who's switching from Tesco's 6digit staff i.d, to XYZ's automated staff access PIN.

...One of my Fav worship songs,because of the deep story behind it, how how he breaks down midway in the song. The song was inspird after he lost his best friend, but still...God.


Oh,if you wanna hear the story of the song:

A love that celebrates weakness,and is true to God....i think that's what counts the most.

These oyinbo people will just be vexing someone sef!!!

From my part-time work:
(1st thing in the morning)
Our records indicate that you did not attend your confirmed shift at Tesco High Street on xxxth August and did not inform us of this. You now have a 'No Show' on your file. Please reply within 24 hours advising of any extenuating circumstances or errors on our part or you will be issued with a Feedback Report and further action will be taken.

Regards,

xxx

My Prompt reply:
Abeg, go and hug transformer jare!!!

No dey vex me today, i am not in a good mood! Ehnn, somebody no fit sleep forget come work again?! Abeg, go and die jare!!

Kind regards

T.Notes



My real reply:

Hello xxx

Thanks for your email......blah blah blah.....



By God's grace,i should start my proper LondonBigBoy Job next month and all these ass-kissing for a GCSE Certificate holder will reduce. But seriously,i'm vexed!!!

So when do you get married anyways? (A blatantly honest post)

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Frank Sinatra, a night full of kisses, and please do not step on my toes!!!

It was going to be a freezing night as usual, but i’d insisted she wear the short sunny yellow skirt that arrived her door post by M&S delivery. She’d called immediately squealing that she absolutely absolutely loved it - but there was no way she was putting it on until the first glimpses of spring came through. We had a giggly argument, you know the kind that Lauren Graham and Alexis Bledel have killed us with every Friday night on the WB for the past 5years running the Gilmore girls TV series. I won this time; the suspense wove its magic into her usual obstinate self. Haha!

Three hours later, i was in the taxi underneath her window and calling her for the uptenth time. “If you do not show up in a minute, i am i am....speechless!” The skirt fitted perfectly, showing off her long slim legs and begging you to hike it up further for a peek-a-boo. She struck a playful pose by the doorway. The taxi driver spoilt the magic of the moment by honking and beckoning at the meter which had been running the past ten minutes. She hurried into the car. I planted the first kiss.

“I have a presentation tomorrow which i haven’t completed; i’m not prepared for the strategy test next week; we’d better be back home before ten pm, or else...”The second kiss, this time longer, ate up whatever was to become of her harmless threat. Gosh, gotta love those lips.

“Tonight..”I concluded for her, “...Business school has a date with the toilet cistern, and the two of us...well you’ll find out.”

I really really am not much of a romantic, but creative T.Notes can do. So it didn’t take much yesterday when browsing online to get the feeling i needed to recreate for a fun romantic and cheap sort of getaway night! And all i’d need was Frank Sinatra, a hundred kisses distributed through the night and little bit of feet shuffling. Well that last bit would be difficult, but i figured i could easily wangle my way through it. Just watch me. Cha Cha cha. Who said your naija brother cannot dance?!

So we got dropped off at a local costa coffe on Dale end.
“Coffee?!”She shrieked with obvious disprove. “We could have done that at home-close to the central heating!”
The third kiss! You see, one thing about making a date memorable is to maintain a consistency in a particular doing. Mine for tonight was the kisses, kiss her a gazillion times all through the night. Nothing sexual, just playful. On the lip, on the check, on the forehead, and whenever it started to heat up, tap your feet and allow the music flicker you away. And kisses, that was not going to cost me a dime! Haha.

Danielle met us by the doorway. “Hi T.N. This way please.” She urshered us in. Yz raised a suspicious eyebrow as we made our way through the usual coffee congregation, through a backroom, and into a wide wooden plated dancing room. Red translucent light shimmered frequently all about the place. Another note on memorability. Look for a venue that has a particular something that you do not see everyday.

“Awww...a dance class?” She inquired with that kind of childish enthusiasm that set off a fit of content laughter.
“Nope. A Frank Sinatra dance class.” And the music hit off, “I’ve got you under my skin...” And my feet found life of their own as i managed to mimic that Sinatra signature finger tapping whilst notioning, ‘watch the magic feet now.'

If you want to get a proper feel of last night, go to youtube now, and rock some frank Sinatra along with me..I’ve got you under my skin...but why should i try to resist when baby i know so damn well that i’ve got you under my skin....ooooh yeah....DANCE!



I dare say i did quite quite well.

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