Date at the Beach

The boda boda moves on at a steady pace, she cracks a joke and is first to laugh, revealing a set of her neatly arranged Canines that I’ve always believed would easily feature in a Freshup Ad.

Our rider goes fast enough to allow us have a conversation but I don’t have much to say, am saving the conversation for later. she’s seated sideways with her neck cringed towards me like I assume Bobi and Barbie did when they were still broke.

In spite of the noise coming from the bike, it feels sort of romantic, quiet. she smiles at me and anyone willing to catch her eye, I feel more alive than I’ve ever been, I could get used to this you know.

We arrive at Anderita Beach in record and are settled on a chair that allows us an amazing view of the lake, the DJ at a nearby bar plays Rihanna’s “diamonds” and my companion swerves her waist in respect to the music and I can’t help staring in awe, am humming to Celine Dion’s “I love you”, in this moment she’s awesome, am excited to have her attentions, she’s happy to show off her dance moves.

The waiter ruins the moment and takes my order, I’ll have fries, Chicken and a bottle of Guinness – just something to show her that I’m made of black, if that’s even really a thing.

She looks through the menu and I can suddenly see her smile, she likes what she sees, I almost “hi five” the waiter for working at such an awesome place.

I caress my pocket for the feel of the two fifty thousand notes that I’ve gazetted for our outing, it’s still there, and having prospected the place the previous day, am confident that my money will be enough, until she opens her sweet little mouth.

“I’ll have fries, chicken and a double mega” she says lazily, like its the most obvious thing.

Am shocked, the love I had crammed myself into believing existed is rattled, I’m shocked, I ain’t loving her unconditionally like Katy Perry, but I’ll give her a chance to defend herself first, so I pop the magic question.

“You sure you can finish the fish, cause I heard its really big” I ask faking a smile.
“Hahaha, I’ve eaten it, actually had it for lunch last week with a friend.”

Huh…… am freaking out, so potential bae is a glutton who eats a 6kg fish for lunch like its nothing, okay. Cool. waiter goes to pick our order and we chat on, she likes my eyes, she heaps praises on me for being such a gentleman, says am better than her ex, and I just keep the compliments flowing by making subtle remarks about her beauty- she’s really hot, like Gina Rodriguez and Halle Berry combined into one, Halle’s complexion, and Gina’s ass.

Fifteen minutes later, waiter shows up with our orders, mine comes first so like the gentleman I’ve been taught to be, I wait for her and it isn’t long before her mugged fish makes a show, its head hanging gently beyond a not so small tray .

It’s her turn to be shocked, she can’t believe her eyes, let alone tray, she attempts to say something but her mouth won’t open, I stare into the lake and pretend to be admiring the dolphins I know don’t exist in the Victoria.

As if on cue, the music stops, there’s a loud silence in which I just begin to nibble away at my chicken while she fidgets with her giant fish. It goes on for about two minutes, then I help her slice a piece of fillet onto her plate, to which she replies with a gratified “Thankee”

We eat in silence for about two minutes before the getlman in me returns from leave so I break the silence, tell her it’s okay,

“happens to the best of us” I lie.

She apologizes, I tell her she doesn’t need to lie to impress me, she gets it, we’re cool, Mowzey Radio plays on the speakers, she swerves her beatiful head to sound of the ballad.

I ease her into a conversation about dreams, she’s excited, shares her aspirations to become a big Fashion Designer, I don’t believe her until she shows me her sketches that are quite impressive, she’s really good, I like her, she likes me, can we send the wedding invites already?