I was born clumsy, and reckless, and restless. I had been destined by fate to never do things the cool way. I never did anything the normal human way. I did nothing easier than fucking things up, but somehow it always fell in place at the end.

A perfect date goes in this same reoccurring sequence: Boy takes girl to a fancy dinner dressed in his shiniest tuxedo while he speaks softly, like whispers of sweet music to his companion's ears while she sits opposite him smiling through the night. He pays the bills and leads her to his car, be the gentleman to hold the door open for her while she enters his expensive ride, drives her to the balcony of her house. At the end of the night she blesses him with a kiss that sparks the relationship.

Our date was a hundred-foot pole off what a perfect date was. You see, a guy always has to get to the place first, and then wait for the usually late girl to join him. It's like a divine law of some sort.

I broke this law.

By the time I got to the Porsche garden restaurant of the Lekki Gateway Hotel, she was already there waiting for me. That would have been the most embarrassing situation if she hadn't mistaken me for a waiter when she saw me based on how I was dressed. While I donned a grey T-shirt and a pair of fared blue Jeans, she was dressed like she was attending a cocktail party.

The orders were even more embarrassing.

After staring blankly into the menu for almost half an hour— searching for a food that was actually familiar — I ended up settling for just a bottle of water. I can't order what I don't know how to eat. While she sat there like a queen graciously picking her grains with a blunt knife and a fork by gullet only swallowed the harmless liquid.

I knew the devil finally won when it was time to settle the bill and the waiter announced our expenses- It was twice the amount I had in my wallet. Just before the situation got lousy and humiliating, she went into her purse, pulled out a wand of crisp notes and paid the bills. We both walked out of the place, the very torturous silence that enveloped us was grave enough to smother me.  We parted ways mumbling barely audible goodnights too ourselves. I went back home that day certain- and glad- that I would never hear from her again.


I dump myself in bed. My phone bleeps. Message pops. I open it. The words in the text flashes through me, illuminating the darkest corners of my heart. It reads-

"It was just a bad date. I wasn't there for the food, I was there to see the real you. I did, and I fell in love with it. Call me, I love you. Xoxo. Adeshewa 🤗🤗🤗

 So if she will love you she'll love you,not all the girls want the money,minority wishes to know the real kind of person they are about to fall in love with
So don't attempt spending all your pocket money to impress any girl🤗 the thing is if she will love you even if youre as broke as a renowned pauper she surely will.

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