• Sometimes you meet your destiny on the road you took to avoid it
Diary,
Occasionally, a lion is tempted (sometimes forced) to eat grass against every one of its instincts.
A couple nights ago, I was that lion. I went on a date with Monicah still, as usual, harbouring the belief that the institution of marriage is a scam. For me, anything a woman does that hints at marriage is a red flag. I know, I flow against the tide. Monicah toted a bagful of such flags.
“Hi, Monique,” I said, offering her my most charming smile. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Please, call me Monicah. I would hate for my future kids to call their mother by a name better suited to a stripper.”
Red flag number one.
The restaurant was fancy, but the food was mediocre, to say the least.
“They call these crab cakes?” Monicah said. “I make better seafood than this in my kitchen. Sorry if I’m ruining your dinner.”
Red flag number two.
“Of course, not. I totally agree with you. About this meal, I mean. I’ve had much better.”
“Wait till you taste my crispy fried oysters with cornmeal butter. You do eat oysters, don’t you?”
“Eat them? I can’t have enough.” I turned on the charm. “You know what they say about oysters, right?”
She smiled coyly, averting my gaze. “A proper lady never kisses and tells. Let’s just say you wouldn’t have to worry about unmet expectations.”
What?
If any of what she was saying panned out, I had walked into a hall of bright red flags.
“You mean I get to eat dinner and have the chef for dessert?”
“Not tonight, though.”
“I know. This dinner is lousy.”
“Also, I’m a proper lady, remember? Don’t get me wrong. I’m no prude by any stretch of the imagination, but before I make any man’s day — or his life, whatever the case may be — he’ll have to make a decent lady of me, as they used to say in the Victorian era.
“That’s why I’ve kept this body prestige for the last 25 years, but now I’m ready to be, well, as they used to say in the Victorian era, ravished.”
Like I said, lots of red flags, but somehow, they’re beginning to turn brown. Why brown, you ask? Because the red is mixing with green.