Can a boy just live a drama-free life? I mean... c'mooooooooooon!
A few weeks ago I got a call from an unfamiliar number. I pick up because I don't hear from people that much anymore. I even answer debt collector calls these days.
Anyway, this person, Janice, is looking for a 'Muhammed'. I tell her she has the wrong number. But now, as I'm about to drop the call, this Janice person says, 'I know it's you Muhammed. Stop acting and give me my money'.
Whooooaaa!
I'm totally stumped. Heeltemal and behoorlik! My first thought is that I am being pranked. But Janice is for real kwaaaaaaad and won't accept that I am not Muhammed. She gets even more befok when I suggest that she is pranking me, not the other way around.
Did this conversation not escalate into the most ridiculous argument about how I, 'Muhammed' changed my voice so I don't have to own up to the fact that I owe her money?
I wanna laugh. But this woman is really upset. And I kinda feel her.
But I'm also like, mense... Who. The. Fuck. Does. That? Who changes their number, their name and their voice to not pay back R100!?
Muhammed, apparently.
I keep telling her to check the number she dialed but she is adamant that she has the right number because she got it from Leticia and apparently 'we all know' Leticia won't lie because Leticia is a saved Christian.
'Belaglik' isn't even the word at this point!
Plus it didn't go down so well when I said I don't even know a Leticia. Never known one in my entire life.
Yoh! Did this not set her off.
Because apparently, Muhammed was once engaged to Leticia. Wait. It gets worse. Never in my whooooole moffie life did I ever think I would be called a deadbeat baby daddy.
Her heels are now dug in. I am Muhammed and I'm pretending to be a Faeez, that's the end of that and I better pay her money otherwise she's gonna call Stiekas, her brother, for me.
At this point, ludicrous as this whole situation has become, I get a little nervous now because the last Stiekas I knew was a little varkie who used to go around pricking unsuspecting kids on the playgrounds of my youth with a tooth pick on the back of their necks and laugh his gat off at their reactions. And Jesus alone knows what kind of adult threat he may have developed into.
So, I tell her that I will personally video call her on whatsapp to show her that I am not Muhammed. She is hesitant but appeased by this suggestion.
By now, half of me wants to block her and end this nonsense but Stiekas is there in the back of my my mind and somehow, despite how impossible it may be, the idea of 1) Stiekas finding me and 2) chasing me around my kasi with a toothpick has gained enough momentum in my overactive imagination to have me believe that this is now a real problem. Also, I call her because I'm now just as stubborn about being as right as she is and I wanna see the look on her face when she realises she's been making a pop of herself all this time.
And of course in the end, she is totally embarrassed because well, obviously...
So, being a person who has dealt with my fair share of Muhammeds, I open the door to talking about the whole thing and it becomes a whole laugh-a-thon. It also becomes more and more apparent that Muhammed is a total con artist and poes who would stop at nothing to avoid paying his debts and maintaining his child. And, as is always the case, dooslike kullid men like him have a way of making kullid woman look like they're the befokte ones. So now Janice and I are now...
But now I have new problem on my hands. I haven't spoken to Janice for four days.
At about 3am last Friday I get a whatsapp from her reading:
'I think I'm in love with you. I think you're my soulmate'
I told her I'm gay right away, but this just seems to have emboldened her, given her more woema and it's beginning to escalate.
Mense, I'm getting love poems shamelessly pulled from the net and signed as her own. I can't. I just can't.
I'm seeing this going only one way...
...changing my number, my voice and my name to Muhammed!