• Bachelor falls into the trap of someone claiming that he is cheating on his wife
Image: SHUTTERSTOCK
Diary,
I’ve been accused of many things, but cheating has never been one of them. I mean, you can’t be both a bachelor and a cheater at the same time. It’s like oil and water, gym and pizza. You’re either one or the other.
So suffice to say I was really surprised when Molly asked me on a date with an ulterior motive in mind. At first, everything went quite well. We had dinner at a nice restaurant and our conversation was very cordial. Unlike a lot of women I’ve dated before, Molly was actually interested in me. She asked questions about my work, where I lived, things I loved to do, all that good stuff. I did the same, and by the end of our dinner, we pretty much knew each other well (or so I thought).
After dinner, she proposed we go to my place.
“Where’s your place, by the way?” she asked.
“Lavington Estate.”
“Lavington?” She looked surprised. “Not Kileleshwa?”
That was an odd question. “I’ve never lived in Kileleshwa. Why?”
She laughed self-consciously. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Then she begun rummaging in her purse.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
She held out a bunch of keys. “Darn! I forgot to give these to my roommate. Mind if I call her to come get them?”
Of course I didn’t mind. Her “roommate” arrived less than 10 minutes later.
“That was quick,” I said, all in good fun.
“There he is, the freaking cheater,” Molly shouted suddenly, pointing at me.
“What?” I said, dumbfounded.
“You’re a cheating dog, is what you are. I know you’re married; knew it all along.”
“I am?”
“Here’s your wife. Now what you got to say for yourself, mister?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She went to her “roommate”. “Tell him, Mary. Here he is. I told you he was cheating on you.”
“But, Molly,” Mary began.
“Don’t be afraid, Mary, give it to him. The dog deserves it.”
“Molly, that’s not my husband.”
Molly looked like she’d been hit by lightning. “What are you talking about?”
“Molly, did you take your meds today?”
“This ain’t about me. It’s about him.”
“That’s not Tom.”
“It is. He’s Tom and he’s a doctor.”
“He also looks like my Tom, but that’s not him.”
“You’re crazy, lady,” I said and got into my vehicle.
She came to the window. “I’m sorry about that. I thought you were someone else. Can we start over? Please?”