Something must be wrong with my compound, because it doesn’t ever seem to attract the kind of neighbors I want to live with. When I first moved in, there was this hot single guy who lived upstairs; he worked in a bank and every morning I would peep through the window to watch him clean his car and all. The dude was fiiiiine with cakes begging to be spanked, but I travelled for a work thing and came back two weeks later to news that he had moved out, and I did not even know his name. After he moved out, a fat couple with their two noisy, destructive kids moved into the said flat…Mstchew. There was a single girl on another wing of the house and she was the only one that I bothered to pretend to make conversations with sometimes, but she got engaged and left for a pastor couple who speak in tongues all night to move in.
Eventually there was one vacant flat and this very fine boy comes with the realtor to look at the house to see if he would take it. I jumped out and joined them on the tour. The realtor must have been surprised, because I took over his job, selling the house, compound and neighborhood to this guy. I am a trained marketer, so in less than twenty minutes of the realtor being silent and wondering what’s up with me, the dude decided to take the apartment. He moved in a week later and when I eventually went to “welcome him to the neighborhood”, a lady opened the door with a screaming infant and informed me that her husband wasn’t in. And my thirst died right that minute.
I am currently the only single person in the compound. and the rest of them always have these “married people chat shows” where they discuss the challenges of raising kids amongst other things, and from the looks they give me sometimes, I am certain I have been one of those other things. Then again, I don’t care.
There is something I have observed that I find quite amusing; the other day I was at a bar waiting out traffic, and this guy whom I have been talking to for some time on Grindr was pressing for us to meet up that evening. I had time to kill so I told him to come to the bar which was also very close to his house. He showed up a short while later with another guy behind him, and was like, “Please don’t be angry, my cousin was bored at home and I did not want to leave him.”
I let that slide and sat down. I ordered beers for them (which I was having) and the ‘cousin’, who wasn’t invited by the way, ordered a cocktail of N6500. I did not say anything, but when it was time to go, I paid for the beers and stood up. The guy then asked pleadingly, “What about my cousin’s drink?” And I was like, “Well since your cousin is too classy to have beer like the rest of us, and since I did not even invite him out, he might as well pay for his cocktail.” And I went home.
I don’t know where people get off expecting other people to always pay for their food and drinks when I am not your father. Anytime I am asked out, I carry enough money to cover whatever I will eat and I always ensure that the cost of whatever I eat falls within the range of what money I have on me. I don’t expect anybody to cover my tab. Pay for yours and I’ll pay for mine. And if you ask me out when I don’t have enough money, I will make excuses and decline.
I remember one time this guy asked me to the movies, and seeing as it was a Saturday, I obliged him. When I got there, he picked the movie we would watch, collected two tickets and proceeded to wait for me to pay for the tickets. I merely reminded him that he asked me to come and that I am fine paying for my own ticket, but that I did not get asked here to come and buy him a ticket. And I left him there. I mean, even when my friends and I hang out in large groups, when the bill comes, everybody pays for what they consumed; isn’t that how life should work?
I realize that some guys exploit their sexuality as a means to some ends, and yes, if I ask a student or someone without income out, I will cover the persons tab. However, please do not come along with three of your cousins, and don’t come and order some very expensive food or drinks, because I will leave you to pay for it yourself, even if the option of payment is the proprietors putting you to use in their kitchen.
I was in Owerri recently on a work related trip, and on my way back, I passed the Imo State Polytechnic along the expressway. Now, that school always seems to be having a rag day each time I pass there; I am beginning to wonder if they do rag day departmentally. Anyway, they were having (yet) another rag day and the road was full of students waiting to hitch rides to Port Harcourt. I knew of course that I was going to pick up some, because I always give rides to students and corpers, as these free rides helped me a lot when I was a corper in Port Harcourt (with its expensive transportation) and earning N9700.
I scanned the crowd and spotted one very cute boy and another okay boy standing together. I pulled up before them (judge me NUT). Suddenly four girls exploded out of nowhere, boobs shaking in my face. “Sir, sir, Port Harcourt, Port Harcourt!!!” I smiled inwardly because I knew their game and it was a wasted effort. I opened the windows and pointed at the guys, telling the girls I stopped for the boys.
“You mean you want to carry those boys?” One of them asked me with disbelief written on her face, while another shocked face reminded me that six people can fit into the car. I lied that my shocks were bad and that I can only carry two, which is why I stopped for the boys. They eventually stood back while the boys entered, and we moved with the girls still looking at us with that “What manner of man is this” look. The boys thanked me, saying nobody gives rides to boys except a truck passes and they jump on the back, that most of the men carry only the females (duh!).
I am certain those girls would have ‘tabled my matter’ after I was gone and would probably have assumed that I am gay. However I did what I did deliberately, because sometimes, women feel entitled; they feel certain things should be handed to them or done for them just because they are women, and to me, this completely negates the message of equality.
I had a nomadic childhood; my daddy had a job in the armed forces that had us travelling around the country. I attended four different primary schools in different parts of this country (especially in northern Nigeria), and I have experienced so many different cultures. The major bummer however is that I don’t have childhood friends, seeing as we never lived in a location for more than two years. Just as we are settling down, we would get uprooted again. So now, I don’t have friends whom I have known for 20 years like many people do. My closest friends are from my university days and I always envy people who have childhood friends. I also did not know any Nigerian language, as we never stayed around long enough for us to learn. In fact, I learned passable Igbo when I stayed in boarding school at the federal government college in the east, which is why I always yimu Pink Panther when he trolls my Igbo spellings.
It was therefore a blessing when someone I went to primary school with in Yola managed to track me down on Facebook, and by a miraculous stroke of luck, he had just moved to Port Harcourt after a stint in Europe. We quickly met up and being the pitakwa lord that I am, I have been showing him around and introducing him to circles. I remembered he was very girly way back then, but all that has disappeared now; he didn’t waste time announcing that he was engaged. But to me, it seemed like he was convincing himself. I later asked if he as gay and he said no, throwing bible passages at me, so I let the matter rest.
A few days later, I was on Grindr chatting with someone, who subsequently sent me his BBM pin. When I added the pin, my phone reported that the contact already existed. I checked and it was this guy, and then I had a really good laugh. Now I totally love having a friend from my childhood who reminds me what I was like then; he even has pictures from my first Holy Communion ceremony which we did together (and I don’t even have a single photo). I decided not to bring up the Grindr issue just yet and see if he will tell me himself. I am watching to see how this plays out.
Have a great week, guys.
OAN: Please there are two profiles on Grindr; one goes as DM and another as Dennis Macaulay. Neither of them is me. I hear one has been begging people up and down for airtime; a friend brought my attention to it. I am on Grindr, but I don’t use DM or any name related to it. Just thought I should say it here.