It's one thing trying to beat Harare traffic in your own car. But someone else's? Especially a client's? Stress levels go through the roof. I definitely didn't want a scratch anywhere, and of course the kombis don't care about that they'll brush past you like you're invisible.
I had never been to the Dibakwane residence before, so I had to rely on GPS. You know how that thing works sometimes it has you driving in circles like it's playing a cruel joke. Eventually, I made it. His house was along Airport Road in Arlington Estate a proper estate, the kind you only see in magazines.
When I arrived, I had to wait about fifteen minutes before I could hand over the keys. Fifteen minutes of my life I wasn't getting back. I swear, if he wasn't a client, I might have lost it entirely.
By now, all I wanted was to be home—in my own space, enjoying the silence. No fake smiles. No pretending to be cheerful. For an introvert like me, I had officially reached my daily limit.
I was starting to think about how I was going to get home. It was already late, and Chitungwiza wasn't exactly around the corner. Maybe I'd just Uber or InDrive it but that would make a serious dent in my savings.
Good God, does the suffering ever end?
Finally, the door opened, and out came the first person I noticed a girl, one of those baddies with the fake English accent. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against baddies. But looking at her hair, her perfectly manicured nails, and the way she strutted, I had a pretty good idea why he was late.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said, winking at his girlfriend. "Got a little… occupied."
I rolled my eyes and put on my most performative smile. "It's okay."
Yeah, damn right it wasn't okay.
He turned to me, finally acknowledging my presence.
"It's good doing business with you. The vehicle service is done." I said.
"I'm sorry again for making you come all the way out here. Let me " he said.
"No need," I snapped, already adjusting my bag strap and looking toward the gate.
"I'll have someone drop you home," he continued, smiling.
"No, it's okay. I was about to Uber anyway," I said.
"I insist," he replied, his tone playful but firm.
I huffed. "Okay then."
Just as the tension settled, his friend came out—and lord…
Tall, dark, with a smile that somehow managed to be both charming and dangerous at the same time. I blinked. Definitely the kind of guy who makes you reconsider your life choices.
He greeted me politely, with just enough warmth to make me want to smirk back.
Then he turned to his friend.
"Ohh your car is here. We can finally go out," he said.