I am demanding a Honorary Degree in dating. I have had so many dates, dating back many many years, that I want my place among the table of men. Real men.

Follow closely.

When I was in high school I was the thing. A Gambino Casanova himself(don’t ask me who that is, my mind’s fancy creation).

I couldn’t keep myself off girls. And that started in Form 2, when I discovered the power of a cute girl in my “cool kids” graduation. Remember Makena? Girl was hot… She was easily the cutest girl in any gathering. And I was the most shy guy any gathering, too. And she was a star. Expert badminton player, hitting Nationals every time. She was wanted. Also by a Form 4 bully who told me to dump her or I get a beating after she rebuffed him and came to me. She used to force me to look into her eyes and every time, I would look far far away. Whenever she won a match, her friends would taunt me to hug her…and I would not.

I was like Deno, who, in Form 4, we tried to introduce to a girl and he fled,literally, all the way to the dormitories.

We never really materialized, but this sharpened me into a loverboy of sorts.

By Form 3, I was a pro.

I was in authority in just the Clubs that mattered which meant I was eternally in the school bus attending funkies, from athletics to ball games to Talent Shows to school trips for clubs that I wasn’t a member of. And it served in honing my skills in the dating game. I was an addict. I loved girls. Not in the loving sense-I didn’t know what love was, actually, but the manly feeling of wooing a woman, err, girl into my box, made school tolerable.

There was a learning curve. From the first time I approached a chick and my first line was:
“Sasa. Unajua…….”
“Sijui!” She shouted back at me.

I will never forget this. But it initiated me.

I started learning how to approach girls and get them under my sleeve in the shortest time. The more I got, the better it felt. I couldn’t help myself.

And the goal? The goal was to receive the most letters in the school. And receive them I did! I enjoyed people coming to the evening prep and handing me letters to the envy of my classmates. I felt like a a star when they cheered as I got letters, every time. I would get up to five at any given time.

Sometimes I used to write back. Being  the Englishman, this was easy. All that was needed were flowery writing pads and someone to calligraph the envelope; and I would fulfil a girl’s best fantasies(and boy didn’t students fantasize in class, especially during preps?)

I became a faithful man of the house in Term 2, form 4, when I met Beth(not her real name).

It was a basketball tournament in our school and legend was that she was the toughest chics in the field. Many had tried, all had failed. She was hot, and she said she had no time for boys. There was a standing bet for whoever would get her. I was up for it! I don’t remember the magic words I used, but a few minutes later, Beth had spread her leso in the ground at the farthest corner of the field and we were lying on it eating her ice cream!

Beth and I were in a relationship by the end of that day. And we were for the next two years!

I was a hero. And I wanted to maintain that. I was faithful. And I was waiting for marriage, diligently. So diligently that Beth dumped me for “not caring to know what is between my legs.” I was dumped for not attempting to consummate our relationship! Njuri Ncheke will call me a failed man, again. But sex is not everything, right, kids? I accepted to be dumped. I was going to wait till marriage.

And then I discovered internet and online dating! This was a major break! I would hypnotize my beaus for no reason. Or, at least to satisfy my weird fantasies. Remember Prodigits? Mocospace? Tubidy? That was before 2Go broke the internet. Sema sexts.

And I met many many girls. And a few older women. If I had a shilling for every blind date I have had off the internet, I would be rich. Very rich.

Some of the meet ups turned into friendships that I have kept to date. Some generated short, relatively inexplicit flings. Some were one-time meets that turned out to be boring. And some were downright disastrous.

Take for instance, Doris. We exchanged numbers and met after some time. She was in town and was looking for ‘a plot’. So, I raided my father’s hard earned pocket money, and went to meet her. Not too bad. Not too good. I don’t judge on appearances and this has always earned me ridicule among my crew. So, we club hopped around town. All was good till she retrieved sanitary pads from her bra and started waving them in a club. I was so embarrassed my grand plans for the night came to a grinding stop. I pulled her out of the club and we spent the rest of the night in an ATM. I have never seen her since. I hear she has been blessed with three children between then and now. Could have been me. 🙂

What about Shaniqwa (I don’t remember her real name). A humongous girl straight out of high school with those succulent githeri or pizza cheeks and waist tyres to boot. The first meet was just an idle walk through town. The second one was more focused. We met in town, and went back to my place, Plot 10. Reason, there was no money to go to a restaurant. I didn’t have any intention of bouncing off this(sorry). So, I borrowed some money and got her a madiaba soda, and queens cake. I, on the other hand, bought a small packet of milk and two ngumus and blamed it on my resolution to watch my weight. Man, I was shady. She had the audacity to drink only a quarter of the soda and a few touches of the cake! And then, she simply announced “It’s time to go!”

*Spits* I begrudgingly followed her to a Paul’s Cookiemans and ordered some cake I had never heard about before. It was nicely wrapped and then she dropped the bombshell:
“Si ulipe?”
I was too pissed off. You should have seen my Meru sparks.
“Sijabeba wallet” trying to be cordial.
” What kind of man are you? You should carry man when you are walking with a girl.”

I let out a big pout and left her there…. holding the cake, went back to the house, ate her leftovers, and forgot about her. I simply wiped her from my memory.

Now that I have remembered her, I am too angry right now… I will complete this story at a later date.