I was in church this evening when the devil came and planted the image of shawarma in my head. Yes, I know it’s the devil because that was all I could think of through the service. It was so bad that before the Pastor even closed the service, I was already googling shawarma spots around. I was silently praying I’d find one of #500. (That moment you are managing but still want to kill yourself with enjoyment 🤣🤣🤣).
I eventually found one for #650 and I happily added to cart only to find out delivery was #500. 😱😱😱 Please, am I buying shawarma or shawarma is buying me? 😂😂😂 I left the church and determined I’d find a way. That’s how I spotted one Mr Biggs. Me that I have not visited Mr Biggs since second World War ended. My head was telling me just be going but my heart said, “seek shawarma and you shall find.” I walked in. Lo and behold, I saw shawarma on the menu. And then they broke my heart. It wasn’t available. I finally settled for chicken pie. Big mistake.
Firstly, the pies were flat like igbobi signboard. 😭😭😭 Then I took a bite and fought tears. It would have been better for me to buy chicken and gala, mould it like shawarma and eat in faith. All I was eating was onions and gross carrot. Let’s not even Start with the oil. It’s enough to cook party jollof. Now Belle dey turn person. 😒😒😒
Just when I thought I’d get to the lodge and rest after a really long day, I realised I didn’t take my key out and my roomie isn’t in. Here I am typing this, sitting on the floor in the corridor. At least, Mr Biggs was useful for one thing. I’m sitting on their nylon.