You ever gone on a first date with someone and they ghosted you right after? Not even that text checking if you got home safe. Or asking if you enjoyed the dinner. And absolutely no “we should do this again” or “I hope you had a good time”. You are left wondering what you did wrong. Maybe you chewed too loudly. Or ordered the kind of food he could not pronounce, and went ahead to clear your plate before he did his. Or you sneezed without covering your mouth. Or was it because you excused yourself to answer the phone? But it was work. He should understand, right? These bills don’t pay themselves. Or maybe you were too forthright with him. Now you are confused. You thought guys liked that. You know, a woman who knows what she wants and goes for it. Or was it because you offered to pay the bill? That should score you points not drop them, right? Ughhh. This dating thing.
This is the third man to ghost you after a first date in the last six months. What the hell could be wrong with you? You have a job and some money of your own. You know what’s going on between Israel and Palestine and can hold a meaningful conversation. Your face matches your neck and your knuckles match your elbows. Your tummy isn’t that big and your ass is rounder than that of the average Nairobi woman. Why the hell can’t you keep a man around long enough to go on a second date!? Or maybe it’s the kind of men you go out with. Or maybe it is you. Well, the only way to find out is to ask. So you pick up the phone and dial his number. No response. You call again. No response. It’s definitely the men, not you. They are so cowardly that they cannot even face you and say it to your face. Weak ass men. Where do you get them from? Like this one was referred to you by your best friend. They work together. So you call her, your best friend.
“Wassup, hoe. How did it go with Doug?”
“Your friend Doug is an asshole. I should never have accepted to go out with him”
“Why? What happened?”
“Hmpphhh…..It was Tim and Joe all over again,”
“I swear to God!”
“But Doug would never ghost you..that is so unlike him,”
“Well, I called him this morning and he still didn’t answer. Twice!”
“Oh, baby. I am so sorry. Do you need me to come cheer you up?”
“No. I’ll be fine. I’ll read a book or something,”
“Okay. I’m on my way.”
“I said I’ll be fine.”
“I heard you the first time. I’m coming anyways.”
Your friend comes over with a bottle of wine. You fill your glasses to the brim and drink in solidarity, against Doug, and against all other men. Men ain’t shit. Fuck men. To being strong independent women whwow know their worth. To loving the women you are becoming.
You drain the first bottle. And the second one. You are about to open the third bottle when your phone chimes. A text from Doug.
“Sorry I missed your calls. Dinner at my place tonight?”
You feel a sudden gush of relief, sprinkled with patches of shame and anger. He thinks he can just disappear and later drop a one-sentence text and get away with it? What does he take you for? An option to entertain him when he’s bored? Deep down, you want to blow him off and give him a piece of your mind. You want to let him know that you are both adults and that adults communicate. You want to ghost him too, like he did you. You want to make him look stupid, feel inadequate and insecure about himself, like he made you feel. That is why it will forever remain a mystery to you how you ended up typing the words “Sure. Drop pin.” and sending the text just two minutes later after he had sent his. Your friend has already started laughing. That loud accusatory laugh that is usually characterised by the noisy clapping of hands. You stare at your response to Doug, then at the unopened bottle of wine in your hand for a moment. You return the bottle back to the fridge. You are going to need something stronger.