As a little boy in a big world, I was often under the impression that everything sung in a Michael Jackson or Backstreet Boys song was the ultimate truth and not even my father’s diatribe against popular music could convince me of anything else.
So, whenever I thought of going to the kitchen in order to fix myself a Midnight snake, lyrics from the thriller would chill me to the core and freeze my appetite along the way;
The midnight hour is close at hand. Creatures crawl in search of blood. To terrorize y’alls neighborhood.
I know right! I just experienced the involuntary, reflex shiver too. However, as a man with facial hair and a sunken look that would put new fathers to shame, I braved the darkness and opened the kitchen door…. To silence. It was perhaps the single most frightening thing I have ever experienced since the day my mother brandished my tennis racket and threatened to make little pieces of me and feed them to cats (at the time, i was so scared I forgot to remind her that a racket could not cut me and she is afraid of cats.)
Anyway, returning to the kitchen. As a fan of theatrics, and being incredibly lazy, I did not switch on the lights and instead used the flash on my phone through an app called “Flashlight.” Shadows seemed to be brooding all over the kitchen, be it on counters or on the floor, the air seemed colder despite the air-conditioner being switched off. Sounds bounced off walls and as I traced them they vanished into cracks and crevices. Reaching for the fridge to launch my investigation into what could sate my hunger, I put all the hours of my telivision FBI training into motion as I raised my “flashlight” over my kung-fu (gun) hand and poked at the fridge door. Fortunately for all the demons, I couldn’t break down the fridge door because my mother would have skinned alive and possibly done worse. So I opened the door like a brave, honourable man….
Discovering nothing particularly dangerous, barring all the salads, I thought to myself, “this is why, I should never have watched those stupid hollywood movies about people getting killed in kitchens by butter knives.” Nevertheless, hunger struck and quick as Flash Gordon (appreciate the comic book reference nerds) I had Nutella’d my toast and was out of that nightmarish scenario. Heart pounding, mind blurred, I looked down at my delicious toast smirked and thinking of the kitchen, muttered;
you’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by …. a smooth criminal (even though it’s my house and my kitchen…)