I asked a while back on Facebook if there were still men who took women out on a real date. You know, a nice quiet restaurant for dinner. During dinner you could get to know each other, look into each other’s eyes and smile. Or to the movies. You would sit next to each other. Your shoulders would touch or he would put his arm around you and you would connect.
Of course, most of the replies I got were of those laughing emojis. From women. Oh, there was the one show off who said he recently took a woman to the movies. (I hope you can tell I am not jealous)
Seriously though, are there men who still take women to dinner and a movie ,or dinner and dancing? Or a walk or picnic at Arboretum? These are the things we did when I was younger and dating. Seems not anymore.
A typical Nairobi date. You meet a guy maybe at a workshop. You hit it off. He invites you out to drinks on Friday. You want to impress. You put on a pretty dress. You do not put on a sweater because it will ‘spoil your smart’! Besides, you are going for a drink inside somewhere. Or so you think.
He drops a pin, you call an Uber (Men no longer pick women nani, find your way). You get to the venue. You are confused. There is a group of people sitting under a tree and others by vibandas. You call him to say you think you are there. He stands and waves. He is sitting with no less than 10 men.
He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and a tight one hand hug that nearly cuts you in half. You wave at the crowd of men and say a shy hello. A waiter runs towards you with a blue plastic chair and the men quickly squeeze closer together to give you space next to your date.
It appears you came in the middle of a hot debate because your date turns and yells obscenities at another gentleman (I use this term loosely) across the table.
You sit there like a visitor, in your open shoe and pretty dress. Too pretty a dress for under the tree date with 11 men. One creepy monkey keeps staring and winking at you while your date is busy shouting and not paying you any mind.
After what seems like forever, the waitress arrives. She looks pretty ticked off by your presence. ‘Uta kunywa (What will you drink)?’ Wait, she is talking to you. Your date turns around to face you now. You ask what wine they have. She mumbles something incoherent. You decide to choose your battles and decide to ask for a cider. She cannot spit in that, she has to open it when she gets to the table.
Your date proceeds to tell you how good the meat is. And proceeds to order for you a kilo. You secretly thank God, because you are starving.
The cider comes 25 minutes later and it is banged on the table as if she was trying to kill a cockroach that you did not see. One hour later, the meat arrives. It is placed in the middle of the table. ‘Karibuni nyama!’ Mr Date announces. Wait? What is all this? As you are asking yourself questions, all the 11 men reach in for a piece, Mr date turns to you and warns, ‘Eat! If you sit there daydreaming the meat will get finished!’ So you try to compete with all these men to eat. You manage two pieces.
You continue drinking your cider quietly. Suddenly another man comes to join your otherwise crowded table. And you hear Mr Date shouting, ‘Salimia mama!’ You are wondering which mama has joined the table until you turn to Mr date and find him pointing at you. You are the mama.
The man comes to greet you, feigning politeness. ‘Kumbe it is you? Last weekend this jamaa couldn’t sit still. Maze he left us to rush home to you. Pleasure to meet you!’ Only problem is you met this guy four days ago. You are already mama and he was rushing home to you last weekend, six days ago. Modern relationships eh!
He does not bother to explain, he continues grinning like a lizard and puts one hand on your thigh. Then asks you that foolish question, ‘We go to yours or mine?’
