I still don’t know if this happens to other people or it’s just me who is ill-fated; SMS’s have landed me in enough trouble to fill a double-cabin pick-up! My problem with straying sms started long ago, back in the days when I lived a stress-free life at my parents’ home. Back then things like ‘bills’ or ‘house rent’ I only read about in books and papers, mine was a bills-free life. Though I had finished school, my parents insisted I wasn’t yet strong enough to hit the world, so I remained under their wings, enjoying free meals. I didn’t have to worry about buying gas whenever I borrowed the old family van, basically all was well. One fine Friday night, as my bird hunting colleagues (The Bird Hunter excluded) waited for me to embark on yet another hunting spree, my old man couldn’t let me go. After super he kept lecturing me about life in the ‘real world’, things and types of friends I must shun bla bla bla! Of course I wasn’t listening, though I could occasionally nod my cranium and punctuate his speech with a ‘yes, sir, I understand’. When an sms from Tim (my hunter-mate) hit my brick-size alcatel phone asking if I’d terminated the plot, I hastily punched the buttons telling him how the old –bald-self –crowned- lecturer- excuse-of-a-dad was still on my case! But I assured him that the moment Mr. never-do-this a.k.a I know- it -all hit the bed, I would be with them in a flash. With a dim smile I pressed the send button accompanied with a master fabricated goliath yawn. It’s at this time the old man’s phone alerted him of a received sms. “Son, I’m going to sleep, you should also go and rest, but always keep in mind your old man’s advice. Remember also, early to bed early to rise!” With that lexis he picked his phone and disappeared in his bedroom. Sighing with relief I waited for him to close the door and dashed off too, threw on a pair of jeans, t-shirt and a pair of dancing shoes and sprayed on my fav cologne. That’s when hell broke loose! The sms intended for Tim, strayed to my father! That night, he kicked out the ‘ungrateful bastard’. Took a lot of pleading to allow me back the next day. Years later, I sent another killer one to my- mother- in-law to be, listing down all the naughty wild stuff I was going to do to her, from biting her toes to nibbling her sexy ears. Of course it was meant for her daughter. Thought I managed to marry her daughter, today I’m the biggest reason she goes to church! She still thinks I’m the world’s biggest pervert. But the straw that broke the camel’s back came when I accidentally sent a not- so- sweet SMS to my boss. Having worked harder than a donkey that week, I made plans to hook-up and have a blast with my pals early Friday evening. I was dropped home, took a shower, readying to go out, my phone rung. I knew it was my buddies. How wrong I was, it was my boss! ‘Young man, listen, I want you in my office right now!’ The hoarse voice on the other end of the line commanded. I went cursing all the way, knocked and entered. Without glancing off his computer, he motioned me to sit. I sat for some good minutes, the guy completely ignored me. I was boiling mad! Silently cursing! I had to vent the anger or else erupt like a volcano. I got my phone and started sms-ing my pals filling them in on my situation. “Man, can you believe this anthill of a director, called me back at the office? I’ve been seated for over fifteen minutes and he’s telling me nothing! Just seated like an old King Kong chewing cud. I feel like kicking his fat bottom”. I pressed the ‘send’ button. Instead of sending it to Dan, I had sent it to the Director, the man seated in front of me! That was the sms that cost me my job. martin.bishop18@yahoo.com
