THE FIRST DATE SAGA

THE FIRST DATE SAGA

Going on a date in Lagos can be fun especially when you are not ‘hunting for a boyfriend’. So basically it becomes merely honoring an invitation while your feelings and emotions have been carefully stacked, folded and locked up in your closet.

I was later to learn that his name was Mike, it showed how uninterested I was when he told me his name and asked me to punch in my number. If there was anything at all, it was the arrogance with which he pointed the phone at me and the revenge I had cooking up on a part of me on such show of ego.

Without waiting to hear the next line, I walked away with a ‘girly’ pride that was to say to his face ‘you got served’. This was not to be the end of my revenge series.

I was too familiar with such tactics from ‘pride filled’ Lagos boys like him than to be surprised that he didn’t call until after a week, and when he finally did, I acted like I had never come across him on my journey through the planet. I was soon to find out that there was more to his rash display of cheap pride.

The date day, I feigned I could not have thrown at him the pleasant part of me, he was still to be served in his own coin, to realize that there was more than enough pride to fill everyone on the continent.

‘Where do we start from? You or me’, when we finally settled.

Life had not taught me so many lessons, but one of the few was never to give out information so quickly especially in one where I already predicted the beginning as the end.

I was to realize that sitted right before me was a patient who could have probably been suffering from the first stage of ‘maniac depression’. I didn’t choose that hour as work, neither did I plan to offer counselling services, which I was not even qualified to do. I was at best a psychologist for children; an EdPsych.

I listened in disbelief as he reeled before me, his tale of the woes of his failed relationship, which was to be all about his life that revolved around the pain and suffering of what he suffered from his ex.

I knew I was in a fix, I couldn’t offer free professional services but I was compelled, I was again disadvantaged, I was only a psychologist for children. I thought to give this a try as I got my confidence from the popular saying ‘All men are babies’. I needed to mix some doses of infant therapy for my friend who talked about nothing else but how he did his best to date another lady; ‘Opeyemi’ who lived in Fadeyi but  that he saw his ex-girlfriend’s image every time he looked at her.

To this end, I knew this had become a case of extreme psychosis which could be tending towards some form of hallucination and to ensure I was not infected with this virus which had spread around my client, I took two handful of ‘suya’ from the bowl we had been served and a full gulp of malt to supply my thinking faculties with more of glucose needed for proper functioning.

I didn’t try to push any further, my client had served himself to different alcoholic mixture and before he lost it, I quickly asked the question ‘where is your girlfriend now?’

‘She is in Idi-Araba’, I clutched my purse to my side, as he picked a call and it ended almost immediately, ‘she doesn’t even sound like she can come and she knows I am here’, I tightened my shoes to my feet’ and asked the lifesaving question ‘how long is it going to take her to get here?’

‘she doesn’t want to come’, he replied’, you can never be sure, I said, more assuring myself than him.

‘After I tried all my best and I saw she wasn’t going to come back, he continued, ‘I told myself, once there is life, there is hope’. I took to the cue and offered his own words as his therapeutic treatment.

‘Once there is life, there is hope’, I echoed back to him.

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