Well, getting dumped is fairly normal. It’s perhaps, inevitable, now and then. However, getting the axe on Valentine’s Day doubles the pain. What triples is the pain? Getting dumped by another girl on the subsequent Valentine’s Day – for being the same insufferable idiot. Ha!
Some experiences are best read about, not survived. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?
News flash: They lied.
This is a non-official apology letter to my then, long-suffering ex-girlfriend. It’s fraught with a lot of remorse and regret. I no longer hate you, and no longer subconsciously condemn you to eternal damnation in the hottest annals of hell. I understand. If I were you, I’d have left, too.
That Valentine’s date was a disaster, from the start. I made the mistake of taking her out to my local. No offence meant, but it’s hardly a joint that encourages spousal loyalty and self-discipline. It’s full of kinky company and not-so-subtle language, often a favorite hangout for rowdy soccer crowds and gangs keen on settling grudges.
Dear ex, I didn’t know you didn’t like hanging out with the boys. I thought you loved plunging your pretty nails into greasy, steaming platters of kichwa mbuzi, cabbages and potatoes. I naively believed seeing your eyes water from all the pepper in the tumbukiza was mad fun. You were the only girl on our table – none of my boys had a date – doesn’t girls adore harmless attention from mafisi?
Oh, buying your date a red soccer jersey from your favorite team in the EPL doesn’t count as a suitable Valentine’s Day gift. Plus, the team is bang on a losing streak.
In an endeavor to avoid making the depressing statistics “Dumped on Valentine’s day”, I made a sabbatical retreat to gain knowledge. Something akin to a soul-searching trek in the mountains to meditate with reclusive monks.
Fun Fact: A Siberian monk holds the Guinness world record for World’s Most Silent Human Being – dude hasn’t uttered a single word to fellow monks in a whopping 29 years.
Wherever you may decide to seek knowledge on Valentine’s Day’s best ideas, kindly ignore the West. Their culture ain’t our culture.
I read of a family of five who wake up at dawn on the Day of Love. Each takes five slips of paper and writes lovey-dovey messages for each of the five family members. So, each one gets 25 slips with love messages – stuck on various points in the house. The bathroom mirror, the salt shaker, etc. Get it?
For instance, a message to Daddy reads: Love you Daddy for always coming to watch me play tennis in school. Message to Mommy: You are the best mom in the world, your pancakes are awesome!
Sounds sweet, right? Well, doesn’t cut out well in our households. First, how many families get up together in the morning for breakfast? Your brother Kevoh didn’t even come in last night!
Oh, you also never play any sports. Lethargic family genes to blame, eh?
Who writes sweet nothings on sticky paper slips? Thank heavens for Whatsapp and Facebook status features. One bland message with love smileys does that. And, anyways, your bathroom mirror wasn’t replaced after Uncle Tosh broke it in a drunken rage last Xmas.
Well, here’s my plan: I’ll splash on my date – a short red or black dress, with high heels. That’s a few days prior. I’ll make a booking at a trendy restaurant in the CBD – and since the city has its usual predatory ways, I’ll avoid cash in my pockets. I’ll use my Coop Visa Card.
In any case, ladies love class. There’s something chic about paying for her wine treat with the Coop Visa Card. It oozes of sheer elegance and confidence.
If you didn’t know those feature high on the endless list of Things-to-look-for-in-my-ideal-man.
Be smarter. Don’t get dumped. Just yet.