The Bajan Transporter: Part 2

If you were reading along, you would know that I was faced with the task of picking up my package from the post office. Things seemed to be going well, save a misplaced attempt at flirting, when suddenly everything was turned on a head.

I was not going to tuck my tail between my legs and slink back to Fox Club Road empty handed however, I was going to go all out. It was about to get turned up.

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I finished up my transaction with the young joker, and quickly made tracks to the next scene of the story: the bus-stop.

As I stood there, I noticed a rather shady looking character. He was your typical skinny mid-twenties male, with a purposefully (I hoped) slightly unkempt locs. He could be mistaken for the proverbial 'boy on the block' but my keen senses tipped me off that he might have been put in my path to intercept my package.

I didn't panic though. I calmly scanned the road while giving him a critical side-eye. It was the grape-purple tee shirt that gave him away, I decided. No one really likes grape jelly no matter how much they try to push it as an alternative to strawberry jam. And then there was the matter of his baggy 3/4 jeans. While I don't much like the idea of the baggy trend, it gets even more absurd when you are wearing a 3/4 pants.

Instead of looking cool, you end up seeming like you hadn't enough cloth to finish the top or bottom of your jeans, so you just wear it in the middle and hope no one notices. He had never had a chance of blending in. I dubbed him Agent Grape-Jelly for obvious reasons.

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I could teach him a trick or two. My striped tank was every shade of pink known to man; everyone knows that the girls love pink and that transporters only wear black and white. In that alone I guaranteed that my true nature would never be unearthed.

I had decided before had to stick to my old method of transportation, so when a minibus rounded the bend. I stopped it, hopped on confidently and took a seat. Unsurprisingly, Agent Grape-Jelly was right behind me and even had the nerve to sit next to me even though they were plenty of seats available.

I plugged in my earphones, but of course I didn't put on any music. I just wanted him to think that I occupied, lest he decided to start up a conversation. This would also allow me to be aware of other conversations in the van, just in case he had back-up.

I made a show of relaxing into the seat and noted that he didn't even have the decency to put on a nice smelling cologne. I debated briefly though, that no scent was better than a bad scent.

The ride to town went by swiftly. I had a strict time-line for success after which I was sure that I would be too hungry and thirsty to be coherent. Thankfully we came upon no traffic jams, explosions or gunmen, so we were soon entering the hub of Bridgetown.

Agent Grape-Jelly disembarked when we reached the Main Guard but I stayed on as my destination was further down. I had fun picturing him running through the back alleys to catch back up with the van.

The joke was on me though because the van driver decided to only go part of the way and I ended up having to walk farther than I had planned. I made my trek as swift as I could, surmising that Grape-Jelly had bribed the driver to turn back early, so he could catch up with me more quickly.

I saw some people handing out flyers and I was about to breeze past them when I noted they were also handing out pens. This Bajan Gal never missed out on something free and useful.

The leaflet it turned out was from Axcel Finance and they were offering all sorts of 'tempting' loans. These sorts of things always make the budgeter in me cackle with glee; No matter what they offered the only thing would happen is that their ads would end up in my garbage.

I knew that Grape-Jelly was still on my tail so I zigzagged in and out of the crowd to aid my cause and made a beeline for the Post Office.

Stay tuned for the final instalment...

Missed the first one? Find it here.