• One artificial accident leads to another in the murky world Dr Tom's dating
Image: Courtesy
Diary,
I thought I had fudged up this whole dating thing and, boy, was I wrong. Last evening, I totally outdid myself.
Before you judge me, I was very tired after receiving four ambulance loads of passengers at the hospital following a bad traffic accident on Ngong Road. The proper gentleman I am, I decided not to cancel my date with Angela. When I got to the restaurant, she wasn’t there. On my second glass of water, she called and said she was on her way but traffic was a mess. I ordered some wine as I waited.
I was polishing off my third glass when she arrived, looking even prettier than her pictures on social media.
“I’m so sorry, Tom,” she said. “There was a terrible road accident on Ngong Road and they still haven’t cleared it yet.”
“I know,” I said, “I caused it.”
She was aghast. “You did? How?”
“No, no! I meant to say ‘I know who caused it.’ He was my patient at the hospital.”
She exhales. “You scared me for a moment there. You’re staring. Do I have something on my face?”
“Yes. Angelic beauty. Your mother must’ve known you’d look like an angel when she named you.”
She blushed. “Actually, I was named after my grandma, but thank you.”
The wine starting to take its toll, I excused myself to visit the men’s room. “Please, feel free to order anything you fancy,” I told Angela.
As I was peeing, I suddenly got quite angry. After sacrificing my rest, my date had the guts to stand me up. I’ll show her, I decided. Women are a dime a dozen. I’ll get me another one in no time flat.
Back in the dining area, I saw a pretty woman eating all by herself. I staggered over to the table. “Hey there lonely lady. My name is Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?”
She smiled, though she looked confused. “What are you doing?”
I took the empty seat across from her, grinning like an idiot. “I’m trying to pick you up, silly. My date stood me up, and you look so fine I wanna rearrange the alphabet and put “U” and “I” together.”
She stood up and hit me across the face with her purse.
“Ouch!” I massaged my cheek. “What do you have in that purse, rocks? And what the hell you do that for?”
“It’s me. Angela. You’re trying to pick up your date, knucklehead.”
I can’t even remember how I got home.