I sat up on the side of the 4-poster king-size bed and looked out the French doors which I left open all night. The white, silky-thin curtain arched gently inwards like a sail and I felt the gentle sea breeze that accompanied it caress my face.
After a while, my mind went to breakfast, and as soon as my feet found the black suede Versace bedroom slippers, I got up and stretched almightily… I roared loudly like the heavens was pulling my hands. Then I blessed the ocean-fresh air with a satisfying morning fart, it wasn’t silent, but I wasn’t bothered.
Talking about mornings, as I stretched I felt the wicked morning wood in my Hilfiger lounge pants – it made me imagine the damage woody could do to someone’s daughter. Unutilised wood is one helluva waste, isn’t it?
As I approached the French doors, I grabbed my white Versace housecoat to complete the Medusa trio. It was then I noticed the bottle of Louis XIII Cognac on the floor by the leather Eazi-chair. I must have been busy last night, no wonder I’m famished. As I walked past the chair I picked up the remote control….. one of those ones with one thousand buttons, but will obey your command when you speak to it. “TV, on” I shouted into the remote with some arrogance. Who born you well not to answer me? The 85-inch 4K OLED came to life sharply …. I think MTV was playing… Notorious BIG’s clip was on… “Now we sip Champagne every Thursday”, I heard him say… I didn’t really care for the music.
I tossed the remote on the leather Eazi and walked through the French doors onto the balcony and looked out to the incredible blue sea just yards ahead. I think I spotted a seal or turtle, I don’t know. I just know the waves crashed onto shore every few seconds.
I took a deep breath…. One of those types the doctor instructs while putting the stethoscope on your chest…… or the type you do when inhaling some blunt…. aaaah, this is the life.
I noticed my gold surfboard propped up against one of the palm trees on the property. No, sorry it wasn’t a surfboard… black people and water…. we don’t mix. It was a jet ski, a gold jet ski. So, what’s for breakfast, I was thinking when I heard my name from below. Sir, do you want your breakfast in your room or by the pool? It was one of the several staff I employed in this particular holiday home. She was a mid-sized thing with waist-long brunette hair… a striking resemblance to Lela Loren. Might have to sack her later and employ that other one that looks like Shakira.
Anyway, it was indeed a dilemma for me to decide on where I wanted to eat… eventually I settled for eating by the pool. At least I get to leave the room and get some air. I’m coming down, I muttered. When the gold lift doors slid open and I stepped out, she was already setting the table by the poolside.
Buongiorno Mr Obasa…. Good morning Carmela, I replied. How you doin, I asked….. very well thank you Sir, she replied.
As I sat down on the Wainscott rafia chair, she opened the 100% natural linen napkin and placed it on my lap….. I like how she does that, maybe I’ll keep her after all. Then she lifted the 24-carat gold cloche… y’know, those metallic things they cover dishes with in luxury hotels. Under the cloche was everything I wanted for breakfast…. Eggs, Bacon, Frankfurters, caviar ….. ok there was no caviar. She poured the orange juice (with bits) into the glass tumbler with gold trims and left….. oh, she was wearing a bikini, but that doesn’t matter.
The breakfast was good. The Christofle (Paris) 24-carat gold cutlery guiding it into my mouth made it worthwhile. I’ll probably get a massage after this, I thought…..or should I take the jet ski for a spin again?….. or take the Aston Martin DB-9 to the golf club?…. decisions, decisions.
After every bite I would look out to sea …. on the other side of the pool. Quite a few yachts out there today, I thought…. Maybe its the paparazzi trying to get some shots of me… who knows. One particular yacht came closer…. it was a Riva 76 Bahamas open yacht, but we call it The Silver Bullet. Perhaps its a neighbour from one of the few mansions on this private island…. It got closer and closer.
Oh mehn, if its Gloria Estefan I might have to get them to make more breakfast…I was just about to press the servant’s bell on the table and ask the kitchen to prepare another meal when the yacht stopped. It was P Diddy. He was also wearing a white Versace housecoat.
Yoh mehn…. wanna come party with me and the boys?
I fluffed my pillow and turned to my right side…. Gosh, I hate sleeping on my left side.