KARMA 2.0

There are those days when everything just goes south and you have a very shitty day. But just when you think it’s the worst day possible, something happens that makes you smile that evil grin. I had one of those days recently, but before I tell you the story, please journey with me down memory lane.

I was posted to Rivers State for my NYSC (scratch that, I got myself posted to Rivers State), and I was in for a fun year. I was young and I wanted to explore the “deep, round riches” of the Garden City. There was this weekend someone buzzed me on Badoo, I looked up his profile and he was this cute, young guy. I responded, we took it to BBM, and four hours later, I was in a cab going to his uncle’s house where he was staying. (Shut up, don’t judge me)

We had the best night ever (or so I thought); we went out for drinks, came home drunk and horny, and then we did the nasty over and over. In the morning, it was great waking up to entwined arms and the feeling of satiation, and I reluctantly got up to get dressed and leave. An hour later, I got home, sank into bed and retrieved my Blackberry to ping him.

“Thanks for a good time,” I pinged. My message didn’t deliver. Alas, he was no longer on my BBM. Bitch had deleted me!

I did not have his number, seeing as we went from Badoo to BBM. I felt like I’d been hit by a truck, not because I was really into him, but because the rejection really stung. I swallowed it and forgot about him, but not before making a quick supplication to my very dear goddess of karma to strike back.

Fast forward five years (2014), just a few weeks ago, I came to work in the morning and I was instructed to get to the head office in Lagos to pick up something. I was peeved because sometimes they tell you it’s a one-day trip and you end up staying more than a day. My company treats single people like puppets that they can pull and dump at will.

I got to Lagos that morning and passed some people wearing suits at the reception, sitting uncomfortably (clearly people who had come for an interview). I went to the cold storage, picked up what I came for and made a dash for the stairs, when the head of HR stopped me. They were having interviews and she needed one more person to make the panel odd-numbered, and she said she would like someone not high up the ladder. I agreed after she promised that I would leave that day.

I got into the interview room and took a seat. And we got started.

And then, the door opened to admit the sixth person. Lo and behold, it was the guy from 2009 who I fucked, and who deleted me afterwards. Karma must have thought the day was my birthday, because this was indeed a pleasant surprise. When he saw me in the panel, he looked like he’d seen a ghost, but I kept my cool as I fired questions away at him during the interview. At a point, I was the only one interviewing him while the others just watched me, probably wondering where the passion was coming from.

A small voice said to me: “Make sure he fails, that way you can teach him a lesson.” But before I could decide what to do, another voice said: “If you are his supervisor, you can torment him to your heart’s content.” So I went with the second voice. I even scored him high in the interview. Shortly before leaving Lagos, I pulled a few strings to ensure he would be posted to Port Harcourt in the event that he makes it through.

I later got confirmation that he was successful and that he is to resume in PHC as an intern, directly under my supervision for six months. I will grade his log books and I will score his appraisals. This will be a very long stretch of six months for him.

The drama has just started, I will keep you all updated.

*loud evil laughter in the dark*

Written by Dennis Macaulay