Before going on a date, always remind yourself not to overshare. I know you should be free and just enjoy yourself but don’t forget you’re being vetted by the other person. One small slip-up could ruin your chances of a second date. However, if you’re as understanding as me then you must have seen your fair share of drama on these streets. I have had horrible dates but nothing comes close to the guy who ranted about Nairobi women and how he had been character developed the whole time we were together.
Jackson and I met through social media. He saw my photos and liked a couple then slid in my DMs. It was nothing new. Many guys had done it before and I entertained some but Jackson stood out from the crowd. I liked that he wasn’t afraid to say exactly what he wanted.
“What are you doing this Saturday?” He asked.
“I have plans with some friends but I’m free on Sunday. We can go for brunch.”
“Brunch sounds fun. I’ve never been to one.”
“You’ll love it.”
We agreed to meet that Sunday for a brunch date. He went silent for a couple of days and I had to reach out to him and give him my number.
“Are we still up for Sunday?” I asked him.
“Of course. I’ll be there around 12.”
I got to the restaurant around 1.30 pm but he still hadn’t arrived. When I tried to call him, he wasn’t picking up my call. I called him almost ten times before he picked up and gave me the lamest excuse ever.
“I’m driving but I’m on my way.”
“I thought you said you’ll be here by 12.”
“Yes, I ran into a friend who derailed me.” He said
I hang up and went inside the restaurant to wait for him. Luckily, the place was fairly empty so I didn’t feel awkward sitting alone. After a few minutes, the guy showed up. He looked decent considering I met him online. I didn’t have high hopes about how he looked but I was happily surprised. I got up, hugged him then returned to my seat.
Things started off well and we shared a couple of laughs. The conversation was flowing, the cocktails were amazing and the sun was out. What could possibly go wrong?
Even though I was enjoying the conversation and his company, I could tell that he was struggling to find interesting things to talk about. He kept asking me how my friends would describe me which I found rather weird.
“I’m fun, adventurous, creative and sweet,” I said for the fifth time.
Maybe he was trying to get me to slip up and admit to something but I had been on too many dates to know what to say and what not to say. Clearly, he hadn’t because soon after, he started ranting about Nairobi women and character development.
“I have seen a lot of things in the hands of Nairobi women.” He started.
I chuckled since I didn’t expect him to be that honest.
“Let me ask you, why do Kenyan women love Nigerian men?” He asked.
Again, I laughed knowing where the conversation was going.
He ranted about how a Nigerian man took his girlfriend but the guy was a deadbeat and depended on the girl for everything. Then he left after the girl got pregnant.
I didn’t say much hoping that he would realize that I wasn’t as interested in the conversation. However, he must have thought that my silence meant that I was listening and he continued to talk about his exes and other women he has met for the entire date.
At some point, I completely drifted off and didn’t even know what he was talking about. He would also make certain expressions when I picked up my phone which just made me feel bad about using my phone.
“Then the girl started hooking up with my best friend.” I heard him say then drifted off again.
I think he talked for about an hour as I played with the ice cubes in my drink. He didn’t even offer me another drink and I had to ask if I could order another one. It was the most miserable date that I had ever been on.
I drank my cocktail really fast hoping that I could be a bit tipsy to enjoy the date. However, it didn’t help. I kept checking my phone thinking of an excuse to leave. He must have finally connected the dots and paid some attention to me.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.” He said.
“Actually I have to go. I have an early day tomorrow.” I answered.
“Okay, we can leave.”
He paid for the food and drinks as I went to freshen up in the washroom. For a minute, I thought of leaving him there but my conscience wouldn’t let me. We went to the elevator and there was a moment of silence. Then, he started talking again.
“By the way, what does your name mean?” He asked.
“It’s a French name,” I answered.
We had spent almost 5 hours together yet he was asking about my name as we left. The date had gone so wrong, there was no way I would go on a second one.
I don’t know what he was trying to accomplish on that date. Maybe he wanted some sympathy or he thought that we would bond over traumatic experiences. However, it was a bit much for a first date and he only came off as a complainer and oversharer.
He wouldn’t let me call an Uber and drove me to my apartment instead. I couldn’t wait to get out of the car. I didn’t even hug him. He tried to keep in touch but I kept cancelling our plans at the last minute. After some time, I think he got the message and stopped asking me out.
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