I looked around the crowded restaurant and I had never up until that moment felt more like a couch potato, especially as I was stuck behind the cash register.
Every other day, I watched couples come and go, looking like they couldn't breathe without each other. Me? I could breathe just fine with air, thank you very much! I was just tired of processing payments and making small talk. But everything changed one fateful evening when we hosted a buffet.
I was heading downstairs to the restroom when my eyes grazed a handsome stranger heading upstairs. He was dressed in a dark native attire, coupling it with a native cap. His outfit was impeccable, and I noticed the intricate patterns on his attire.
He was tall, over 6 feet, dark in complexion, and kept a very neat beard. What caught my attention, though, were his sleepy eyes - a trait I found endearing, as I had them too. It was as if he was always ready to drift off to sleep, and I found that so attractive.
In a split second, I changed direction, pretending to head up with him. In my head, I was like 'Nature's calling...but I'm mute.' He came up close, and I repeated to myself 'Mute.' Because there's no way I'm letting this hot stranger pass me by.
I followed him up, pretending to be a hostess. He asked, "Am I in the right place for the Mexican buffet?" I plastered on a pretty smile and sighed, "Yes." He nodded in acknowledgment, and I noticed his lingering gaze, but didn't want to jump the gun.
I directed him to the buffet setting, where on seeing him, the waitresses descended on him like he was their last meal. I subtly moved away, letting them do their jobs.
As I was processing payment from other guests at the restaurant, I locked eyes with him across the crowded buffet hall, and I felt like a giddy high school girl with a crush. We exchanged curious glances, each wondering who the other person was. I was used to being on the receiving end of such attention, but I've never welcomed it till now.
He came back for a second helping of food, and I decided to help him out before any other waitress could. As we stood side by side, me selecting his food (even though it wasn't my job as a cashier), the air was thick with tension. I could feel his eyes on me, but I tried to play it cool. When I reached for the door, he opened it for me, revealing a gentle side that made me raise a brow. Nigerian men weren't often known for such gestures.
When he came to make payments, I gave him the account number, and the tension was well...tense. We kept glancing at each other, and in order to seem like the diligent cashier I definitely was not, I took hold of the POS machine drilling holes into it. I looked up only to catch him staring at my lips. I bit back a grin trying not to seem too attracted.
As I looked up at him, I realized just how tall he was - over 6 feet. I felt small, as he gazed down at my 5'5 frame. It was a moment, with the Mexican music blasting into our eardrums.
He said something, but I couldn't hear him clearly. Then he leaned in saying, "I've made the payment." I looked up and realised we were so close. I breathed in a shaky breath and gripped the POS machine to check the payment, but the payment didn't reflect immediately. (It did reflect 30 seconds later though). As fast as a danfo (bus) driver grabbing passengers on the road, I seized the opportunity and asked for his contact information to receive proof of payment.
"Can I have your number, please?" I shouted, trying to sound casual. Something I had never done before. He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by the request.
"Okay...," he said, reciting his number. I saved his number, my heart racing with excitement, not believing it had worked.
Twenty minutes after he had gone, I received the payment confirmation. But more importantly, I now had his contact information. From that moment, we began exchanging messages.
We were texting each other right from the restaurant, and it felt like we'd known each other for years. When I got home, our conversation flowed effortlessly, and we started sending each other voice notes. I told him about how I struggled to pronounce his name, a native name and he teased me playfully. "You can just call me V." He said.
Then, he asked me something that made me laugh. "Did you collect my number on purpose?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "I like honesty, right? Was it just to get my payment information, or was there something more?"
I remember my heart skipping a beat as I wondered how to respond. Our paths crossed in a crowded restaurant, and I'm no rocket scientist, but the chemistry was there. Should I tell him the truth relaying how he literally changed my direction that night and how the payment reflected after barely 30 seconds of him sending it? Or should I lie and tell him I have the contacts of most of the customers that come into the restaurant? I risked it. I told him the truth.
He chuckled in amusement, "I definitely would have collected your number, even if you hadn't asked. That was the only thing I could think of when I first saw you." "God! You were so beautiful walking down those stairs and I thought to myself, 'there she is! I've found her'." He whispered. I was stunned and couldn't believe my ears.
"I really hope I didn't scare you," he hesitated. "NO! Definitely not. I love how you're..." I paused in search for a better word.
"straightforward" we both said and then laughed out loud. It felt like...a match made in heaven. Like every little moment was meant to lead me to him.
*Pictures generated from pixlr.com and Meta AI
