Читать книгу "Yeah, I am the rich black man from New York in Africa: Johnny Fuck Me Walker" - Dantse Dantse - Страница 6

Since 4 days Johnny Walker was short on cash, because of Anzehma whom he had met on the internet.

Anzehma was a very beautiful girl, black and slim, like ebony, with an extraordinary figure. Even Jennifer Lopez would be jealous of her butt, round and tight, supported by long iconic legs. Her breasts were round, tight and pointed, with big nipples. Yes, Anzehma was a real beauty.

Johnny Walker had met Anzehma coincidentally in the internet café his friend Wadjo owned. The woman fascinated him and he wanted to have her. Anzehma, like many young Cameroonian women, was chatting on the French dating site ‘vient et laisse toi aimer’ (come and let them love you). She was hoping to meet her dream ‘Mr. Europe visa’. This is what Cameroonians call Europeans, Americans or Canadians, usually older men that meet women on the internet. The women play with them and promise them eternal love. They are looking for a man who will marry them, so that they can come to Europe or America. Some of these men are so unbearable and terrifying that the Africans leave them as soon as they are abroad, even without papers. But many play the game until they have their papers, after which they get divorced from one day to the next.

Yes, in the internet café Johnny had seen that Anzehma was looking for men. He had an idea right away. He would get in contact over a friend from Paris. This friend would chat her up and after some time refer her to his contact in in Cameroon. She would give this friend her phone number and shortly after Johnny would call her, introducing himself as the trust administrator in Cameroon. And this way he would try to go through with his plan to scam the girl. He needed a few details on this woman, so he’d asked he’s friend Wadjo, who ran the café, for help. He was to note the name of the website and Anzehma’s nickname.

After that he wanted to tell his best friend Roger about his idea. Roger was a specialist for crooked and dirty business. In this area he was unbeatable and his ideas for scamming people were always very well thought out.

The next day, as he noticed that the woman was chatting again, he ran over to the café across the street, logged on to the same website, created a fake profile and added an impressive picture. The picture he had tampered with the night before on a picture editing program: You could see him on a New York street next to an SUV. Judging from the photo, he was a cool rich guy. He searched for the woman’s nickname and had no trouble finding her. He wrote her in English:

“Hello beautiful woman, my name is Johnny. I am African American. I live in New York. I am now in Paris and will be in Cameroon in two days. I want meet you and get to know you. Could you show me Douala?”

It didn’t take long and the woman replied in French:

“Do you speak French? I’m sorry, I can’t speak English.”

“Fine, fine Baby, a little bit. French a little bit. I can read a bit. I can understand a bit too when you speak in French. But speaking is a problem for me, woman.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Hang on, I’m going to look for someone who can translate your answers to French”, the woman said.

“Do it girl, yeah, just do it. Do it slowly, baby. I am waiting. For you I’ll wait. Yeah I’m Johnny: Johnny F.M. Walker, the rich man from New York.”

He could see everything from the other side of the street. He watched the woman move. She had gotten up and was now talking to two people who were chatting as well. Apparently no one was willing to help her.

Johnny saw her come back to her seat and start typing again.

“Sadly no one can help me here. Let’s just try it this way. You write in French as good as you can, okay?”

“No problem Baby. No worries. We will get it. What you called? Yes, your name. What is your name? What name you are?” he wrote in purposefully bad French.

“My name is Anzehma and you, what are you called?”

“Hey girl, Anzehma, good name, like Benzema, I’m Johnny, Johnny F.M. Walker”, he answered.

“You’re really F.M.? F.M. as in FM 105? Do you own Radio FM 105 from Douala?” she asked. She was thinking of a radio station in Douala. Many radio stations in Cameroon are just called FM with a number after that. She didn’t know the number stood for the frequency that you could tune into the station with. That’s why she thought he was this FM.

“No, no, an abbreviation, FM is an abbreviation, what did you said it is in French?”

“Do you mean an abbreviation in French? Is FM an abbreviation? I thought the radio station was called FM”, she stated honestly.

“I’m not a radio, girl. FM means Fuck Me, you understand? You now understand?“ he kept asking in bad French.

“What do they call you then? I’m confused. So many names. Is Mister Johnny alright?“ she asked.

„No, no, woman. Mr. Johnny Fuck me Walker. Mister Johnny Fuck Me Walker, a great name in America, a big name in America. A big name. Everyone know FM in America. Big name I have, no, I am, hehe”, he said laughing, and added: “But only Johnny Fuck Me say you.”

“Okay, Johnny Fuck Me. A nice name...is you from England?”

„No, no girl, no, I’m Afro-American, I from New York. The rich man from New York“, he said.

“You are a black American. That’s even better, better than an Englishman. Black Americans are so cool! That’s 50 Cent, Kanye West and Will Smith.”

„Ani, yes, I will call you now Ani, I call you Ani now. Beautiful, no? Now you see, don’t say black American. We are African. People say Afro-American, you know, we are all coming from Africa. You understand, sweet Ani?”

“Yes, I have understood, Johnny”, replied Anzehma.

“Ani, please, say Johnny Fuck Me!”

“Yes I have understood, Johnny Fuck Me.”

“Yes, I will fuck you baby. I will do it“, Johnny wrote back.

“What are you doing in Paris? How old are you?” asked Anzehma.

“32 years old, 32 old. Me businessman, do business in Paris. But everything finished in Paris.”

“When are you coming to Cameroon?” she asked.

“In two days. I just sign little business and my Boeing comes Douala Thursday 9 pm”, answered Johnny.

“Boeing? You do business with Boeing? The plane? Boeing? That has to be some big business“ Anzehma wrote overjoyed.

Johnny himself was confused at first. How did she get the idea he was doing business with Boeing? But then he remembered she didn’t speak English and had only heard Boeing and must have just assumed that he was working with Boeing. That sounded like a great idea to him.

„Yes woman, yes. My family is from Boeing. That meant, baby, Fuck Me Walker buys part of Boeing. I can say, Boeing is ours. You understand, Boeing like Fuck Me Walker, Fuck Me Walker like Boeing. The same. Same family, got it?“

“Such a big plane. You are so rich!”

“Baby, I’m lucky. I been born in a great family like Fuck Me Walker. I like you baby, you are very intelligent. You are intelligent, you smart girl.”

“Thank you, Johnny”, Anzehma wrote.

“No, no, write thank you, Johnny Fuck Me Walker”, Johnny wrote back.

“Thank you, Fuck Me Walker” Anzehma said as Johnny had told her to.

“So good. Good smart girl. I’m Johnny Fuck Me Walker, I fuck the world, I will fuck you, honey. I like you girl, I love you, I love you very much even now without seeing.”

“I like you too. I’m only 18, but that doesn’t matter, and I left school early because my parents are poor. Is that not a problem for you? You rich people always look for rich women who have gone to university, don’t you?

Johnny smiled a bit as he read these lines, and looked through the window to the other side of the street. He could clearly see Anzehma concentrating enthusiastically on the keyboard in front of her.

“Don’t worry, woman, don’t worry. No problem, no problem. I want you picture, I want you. I love you already.

It went on like this. She gave him her number and they agreed to meet next Thursday at the airport, when he would arrive in Cameroon.

“You take paper, write my name, yes, Johnny Fuck Me Walker, I come from plane. I will know you alright. I come with interpreter, yes, in French they say interprete, okay? Yes, I come with interpreter: He is Cameroonian too. I met him Paris. He’s from Douala and fly with me. I pay him million Francs for a month. But I think not enough? You tell me, is enough? For interpreter?“

“What Johnny, 1.000.000 Francs?”

“Say: Johnny Fuck Me.”

“Johnny Fuck Me, a million is too much. Even ministers don’t earn that much here.”

“No problem girl, no problem. Money not everything. You look for Taxi for us? Thursday 9pm? Okay.”

Johnny said goodbye and looked through the window. He saw how Ani got up and talked to his friend Wadjo excitedly.

He guessed that she would tell him now that she had found her husband, an Afro-American who was young and rich and loved her. He guessed what was going on inside her. Someone who paid an interpreter a million Francs, about 1.500 €, a month, would have to be very rich. Money wasn’t an issue with someone like that.

He waited until Anzehma had left the café, then he crossed the street and went over there himself. His friend Wadjo told him everything the woman had said, and it was exactly what he had thought.

“I’m flying to America! My internet prince, the rich man from New York is coming” Anzehma had told Wadjo euphorically.

At this time she didn’t have the slightest idea that the man was not an Afro-American but a con artist who had never even left Cameroon and that her family would be confronted with a huge pile of debt very soon.

The girl borrowed some money to get a nice dress in which she could receive Johnny. The money came from Wadjo, the owner of the café, who wanted back double as soon the prince from New York had arrived. That’s how business is run in Cameroon – everyone gets their share.