Thursday, March 10, 2011

Road Rage, Naija Style.

It's only the grace of God that got us home safely because my dad was driving like a psycho. I love my pops to pieces but he has road rage. The man just loses it in traffic.

Earlier that morning, I took a taxi from Alagbado to the Federal Palace Hotel on Victoria Island. It was the first day of events for Arise Magazine Fashion Week.

The whole day kind of ended up being a long exercise in patience (press waited all day for things to get started and it well, didn't).

By 5:00 pm, it was obvious that the scheduled events were going to be postponed and my parents were already on their way to drop off an overnight bag (more on that later) but I decided to go home with them instead.

Big mistake. We should have gotten a room. My dad is just too old for this Lagos "Too Fast Too Furious" ish. We left VI around 7:00 pm and didn't get back to Alagbado till around 10:45 pm. The traffic was a NIGHTMARE. I'm talking bumper to bumper. No one wanted to stay in their lane, cars were stalling in the middle of the road.

And there's my dad, a man in his 60s, swerving and speeding right along with the 20-something bus driver who just doesn't give a fuck.

I truly felt bad for him.

I do give him credit for his ninja-like reflexes; I've never experienced so many close calls in my life.

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