Adonis Diaries

Elizabeth “I have a mind to Break your Eyeglasses”: Introspection

Posted on: March 5, 2009

Introspection: Elizabeth (Addendum #5)

I Could Break your Eyeglasses (Dec. 2002)

We had a large apartment in Beirut and it was almost vacant for the duration of the civil war as a living place.  My brother installed a dental clinic in that apartment and then rented it for a while. In 1980, I was just freshly arriving from the USA and I passed by our apartment for a couple of minutes, for no reason, and the phone was ringing. A secretary for a local company was summoning me to an interview the next morning.

I had no recollection of submitting a resume to that Lebanese company. Next morning, I was meeting a high level representative, who came from Cyprus for a couple of days, just to hire new engineers for their expanding business in Nigeria. He did not ask me questions. I did not ask him questions. I needed to be off and out of Lebanon.

At the airport in the Capital Lagos, a few agents from the company met me and facilitated my entrance. I flew the same day to the headquarter in the city of Benin. I was lodged temporarily at a motel. I met an American young man in the dining room and ended up sleeping with a very young Nigerian girl. I have the impression that she was waiting in my room. We made love all night and I remember not sleeping much.

Curiously, I cannot recall how I met this girl. This motel must have a curious way of welcoming new guests. My hidden cash was dwindling for some days. I told my co-workers that I’m conducting an experiment to find out how much per day the culprit is stealing.

They laughed their heart out for my stupidity. I confronted the middle-aged cleaning lady. She stepped in the bathroom, removed her panties and bent over the bathtub. It was a quick standing exercise. I moved out the next day: I was running out of hiding places for my scant dollars.

A month later I was transferred to a remote compound. I stayed four months in a field compound, out in the nowhere, at a poor town lacking television transmission, called Okitipupa. I was ordered to wearing regulation tall brown boots for discrimination purposes. A few thugs entered the compound one night, killed three guards and threatened the manager to open the safe. We were awakened at three in the morning to go and lodge a complaint. We drove to the police station past the slaughtered watchmen.

I was recalled and ready to be shipped out to Cyprus. I was somewhat reluctant for this sudden transfer even after this harrowing experience. I had to stay for another month, redundant at headquarter. The company accommodated me at a house with a private driver and a house servant. At night, the Nigerian driver would take me to a dancing place in the open air and surrounded by a few huts. I was to select a girl of my choice.

I liked a fantastic black beauty but she was taken that evening. I ended up taking home Elisabeth, another beauty. We made love all night. She was great in expressing her delights and happiness in soft moaning. Elisabeth was pretty, large eyes, flat tummy, firm, round and proportionate tits.

She had a major handicap: the tough leather feel of her palms, hands and feet. She did not ask for money and I didn’t give her any. The next evening I joined my first choice of the previous night and talked. My Elisabeth was upset and cut us off. Her friend girl understood and stepped aside: no fair play in this business. Elisabeth still came home with me. I don’t recall calling her Beth or any other nickname. She allowed me to undress her and kiss her all over her body, but she would not let me kiss her mouth.

She obstructed any kind of intercourse for the night. I tried hard all night at no avail. I suspected the reason for her behavior and decided to ask her in the morning. In the morning, she let me enter her, fixating me with her black large eyes, frigid and stone faced all the while.

I asked her: “Elisabeth, what’s the deal now?” She replied: “I had to punish you. You cannot ask another girl when I am around”

At breakfast, she said that there is an emergency at her house and that she needed money. I offered her ten Naira.  She went ballistic and screamed: “Ten Naira? You bloody cheap! I could break your ugly glasses!”

The scoreboard was heavily tipped on her side: My lame excuse was that I had the right of choice. Surely, my excuse would never balance a modicum sense of decency for all the money in the world. Beside, she has not taken money the first time for me to do business as usual.

The day to leave Nigeria was near. I asked the driver to let Elisabeth know of the departure date. She met me with her beautiful girlfriend at the gate: They were not allowed to enter the tarmac. I sadly waved to these generous hearts.

My return at Lagos airport was not accompanied by company officials. I was searched five times and finally, I had to give away all my tiny bottles of liquors to get through.

I kept a picture of us, Elisabeth and me, embraced and smiling. I kept a picture of her beautiful girlfriend too. Polaroid photographers in that “dancing” joint had to make a living.

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March 2009

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