Awkward is…Being hit on by a Twenty-something-year-old
Ok, people-no, not people, men. Sorry, not men. Boys – Boys don’t bother to find out whether you are married, in a relationship or if at all you are interested in a relationship! They just get your number and start getting all inappropriate with you.
You don’t just start hitting on a woman before you know if at all she is interested in pursuing a relationship with you, do ya? DO YA?
Is that how it is nowadays? That if you give a guy, no, boy, your number it means umeingia box? Plus they can call you at night? Every night? And they can try again the next night if you don’t pick up. Then they can text you and tell you how they just had to wish you a goodnight before hitting the sack? Then they will call you again the next day? You will pick up during the day because well….you don’t know why but you do. Then they will be like “Aki I called you jana and you lengad”
And you will sigh. And you will feel too old for this shit!
And these days, if he shows some interest in you, you might as well start playing your wifely duties? Why waste time? You haven’t gone out on a date with him and he goes: “Aki I am so lazy to cook. Si you come and cook for me” Cook for you. You just met. You are still Renee to him. He still has no clue that that is not your full name. He doesn’t know your second name. He has no idea that you have children and that you have no interest in getting into a relationship at this point in your life. But he is too lazy to cook. He needs you to cook for him. Jesus, take the wheel my Lord.
Then this night, he will call again. And you will pick up because you really are curious to know how these boys chat up girls these days (Or maybe your naughty muse needed something to write about?) Only in this case, you are not that kagirl knowwhatamsaying? But something about you apparently led the poor boy to think that you’re that kagirl. You know? Is it your way of dressing? Too casual? Are you not big enough? Not ‘motherly’ enough? Not serious enough? It’s your hair isn’t it? You used to be offended when idlers would stop whatever they were doing to say hey. They’d go “Niaje mnati”. Mnati. It used to bother you. You were tempted to stop and deliver a serious lecture about India Arie’s ‘I am not my hair” You soon realized that it would just be a waste of your precious time. And now you have no more damns to give. Still, find out from the boy; is it your ‘mnati’ hair?
So he called that night and you picked up. The conversation went:
“Sasa. You haven’t slept yet?”
Oh, I have. This conversation is happening in my subconscious
“No. Not yet”
“Ok. What are you doing?” he is smiling. You can tell he is smiling
It’s still too early for night running so I’m chilling waiting for the clock to strike midnight.
“What? Ati you’re undressing?”
Ok. You’ve come this close to earning yourself a time out young man.
Whatever is it about me that makes a boy talk to me like this aki? Just tell me I put things straight coz mimi hii sitoboi.
You laugh. Not because you are amused. But because you can’t. Like seriously, you cannot do this. God help you.
“No. I am reading” you reply.
“Oh. I thought you said that you’re undressing”
You roll your eyes.
“So, reading huh? Kwani you’re in colle ama?”
Oh, how sweet; you’re the man with a job and I’m the damsel in College. Cupid baby!
“No. I am reading a novel”
Doofus doesn’t care which book you’re reading. He moves on swiftly:
“So….si I moved. I live in your neighborhood now.”
Lord have mercy!
“Yeah. You might be my neighbor. I live here next to the shopping centre”
“No you’re not”
Hehe…not yet a man, not interesting, not my type…where do I begin?
“Not my neighbor. I don’t live those sides.”
Jesus loves you so of course doofus won’t find you. You will not bump into each other one day. Not gonna happen.
“Ah. Ok. So when are you visiting me?”
Oh, the honor! The privilege! The glory of getting to visit you! That I should be so lucky!
“I ….don’t know.
“How is tomorrow?”
“You know what. I haven’t been picking your calls coz I really am not interested in a relationship. I only gave you my number coz I sincerely thought you needed my help”
“It’s ok really. It’s fine. It’s nothing like that. I’m just a social person. I like making friends.”
“Ok. But you are calling me at night.”
You check the clock. 9.30pm. This is the only time you wish the kids were still awake. Then all you’d have to do is pick up the doofus’ call when Heidi is fussy. You would press the answer button just when Heidi is screaming “Muuum! Muuuum!” Holding the phone close, you’d say to Heidi “Nyamaza baby girl. Wacha niongee na huyu daddy wenu mpya”
Why is it that you are not evil like that? You wonder. Sometimes, you are convinced that you are not evil enough. I mean, you pass off such a chance to have fun with a testosterone-laden lad and instead choose to have this awkward conversation with the boy?
“Why do you insist on calling me every night then?” you ask again.
“Ok. Let me be frank with you. When I saw you that day in our office, something drew me to you. I don’t know what. I just felt attracted to you”
Sigh. This cannot be happening. A boy barely in his twenties cannot, CANNOT be hitting on you!
Do you even tie your own shoe laces?
“So when are you coming to see me. Kuja unitembelee tu jameni. How is tomorrow nikitoka job?”
That’s it! This joke has gone too far!
“Did you say tomorrow after work? Now that is tricky. See, my kids are back home from school at that time and so that slot is taken. No can do.”
“Oh. Ok….” You can see the confusion in his face.
Awkward silence. Wait for it. One….two…three…
“Sawa basi. You have a goodnight”
Aaaand…There it is!
“Goodnight” You say with a smile on your face.
Still, you have to use that “Daddy wenu mpya” line someday. You just cannot afford not to use it. You only live once.
You go back to reading your book knowing that there will be no more calls to ignore.
As if on cue, John Legend and Common come on the radio. Oh Glory! Glory! Oh Glory! Glory! Glory! … Now you wouldn’t mind getting calls from these two gentlemen at this hour, any hour, of the night.
Is it me?