I only want three things: See You. Hug You. Kiss You.
This I saw on an images site. And it completely defines how I am feeling about this date with Naomi.
Now before I go on, I know a whole lot of you are expecting apologies for my journal entry for the third week of the year being missing last week. I did tell you guys from the very first entry, you don’t see my Kiss Me If You Can entry any Thursday before six am, hold TM responsible. I don’t get how anyone can be this…
Let’s go on. You were not thinking I was about to pour aspersions the other part of me, were you? Hey, and don’t you ask what I mean by what I just said. LET’S MOVE ON!
I don’t know for other dudes out there but when a girl asks me out, I first get flustered. I mean a guy is supposed to do the asking-out, right? But Naomi is a cougar and so maybe it is part of an unwritten natural order for her to ask me out on a date first before I find the courage to do so.
So, my heart is thudding a little faster than usual as I make way to her house at twelve forty-five. It is not a long walk as their building is just seven houses down from our own. I arrive at her door with ten minutes to spare. I flick an eye at my cheap-enough waterproof, stainless Quartz wristwatch and roll my eyes.
I am not certain what works best. How early is considered courteously early and when does it become over-enthusiastically early?
Flattening the temptation to tiptoe away and return to knock five minutes later, I raise my hand and give the mahogany wood door one firm knock, then I push the hand, and the other, into the pockets of my slim-fit jeans and begin to sway back and forth with an air of nonchalance.
She opens half a century later. Well, not half a century— but it sure feels that way since my heart has taken to hopping not beating.
“Emma, hi. You’re early. I like that.” She beams and gives me a quick hug.
“You look nice. I like the baseball cap.” She lets out a laugh that sounded like a giggle and then gestures with her hand. “Come right in. I am not dressed yet. I was reading and I lost track of time.”
I follow her inside, my eyes pinned on her nice, jutting backside. She has nice long legs too but my eyes won’t leave the top-thigh-shorts-emphasised backside. I have a small thing for bums— female bums, of course, yikes! It is nothing pervert though, just that when rightly-proportioned and fittingly clothed, I find my eyes locked on them like they are a new study I am embarking on.
“It’s naughty to stare at a ladies bum, you know.”
Her laughing voice sweep my eyes up. She turns and winks. I smile, shyly I suspect. Shameful! “I can’t help it. You’ve got a nice pair.”
She gapes at me for a second and then throws back her head and roars out a resonating laugh that doesn’t seem to come from the long neck. I am mesmerised by her cupid-bow top, lower full lips. Will I be checking in my first kiss by those lush looking lumps?
“You’re the funniest dude I ever met, you know that?” Her eyes are twinkling as she looks at me. “I am so glad my mum recommended I visit you. You make me laugh so hard. Lord!”
That can be good or bad depending on how she is looking at it. I don’t care either way, so long as she… how will she do it? Yank me into her skinny arms and crush those luscious lips against mine? Or lean her head forward and…
“Hey, no blanking on me today.” She snaps her fingers in my face and rolls her eyes. “You sit, I’ll go dress up and we’ll be out of here.” She turns and heads for the connecting curtained door. “By the way, if you want a quick drink, hit the refrigerator in the kitchen. Be back in five.”
In five what, hours?
I sigh, walk around and sink into the white sectional sofa. Their living room looks better than ours. More posh. I am not surprised. Mr Ufiofio, her father, owns two hotels here in Lagos alone and I heard another one at Abuja. So, you can say he beat my father in the money market.
No biggie. Their money, their affair.
She actually does it. Said five and comes out in five.
“I made it in four minutes forty-three seconds.” She grins at me as she swings back into the room. “I beat my last week Tuesday record by three seconds. Yippee!”
I grin back. I like the look of her. She’s changed into fitted pale-pink cigarette trousers, a cream coloured lace panel top and a pair of greyish strap flat sandals. On her hand is a dark grey purse… clutch, as women call it.
“You look nice. Better than nice, elegant in a sweet, simple way.”
She gives me a big smile. “Thank you. Shall we go?”
“After you.” I dip my head in a gallant bow.
I am not playing to her so she’ll want to kiss me afterwards, mind you guys. Emmanuel is a gentleman. Remember that.
“So, where are we headed?” She asks as we get into a cab.
Guys please don’t give me the cheap-ass-dude look? I am a young man on a dad-granted minimum wage here.
See? She doesn’t mind.
“So, what’s the latest with you, any new girls you’re charming with your funny talk?”
“None. I think I am looking for someone to charm me.”
She laughs. “You’re either the most honest guy I ever met or you have some real funny comebacks.”
“Just too honest.” I move my shoulders. “I think I should learn to filter my speech though.”
“I don’t think you should if it is you. I like to say my mind myself. Of course, sometimes I refrain as people don’t care for full-out honesty. But you don’t have to filter with me. I won’t like you to.”
Does that have an underlining meaning or am I becoming too wishful?
“And you, anyone trying to charm you?” Now I am being sneaky. But a guy’s got to check what his competition is.
“There’s always someone trying to charm me.” She chuckles. “That wasn’t a brag, just a fact. I seem to always have some guy in the horizon. You know, it’s like I’m a magnet that pulls guys… all kinds too. Crazy.”
Look at that, my first kiss is coming from a girl—lady—with a magnetic force that attracts men. That can’t be good. I mean she might have garnered experience from her magnetic get-the-guys force but more experiences mean more contact with bacteria filled mouths, right? And what if one of…
I stop myself and remember that I ought to be paying attention.
“You have a cute face, anyone ever told you that?” She twinkles her eyes at me. “It is particularly cute when you are all-into your thoughts.”
Cute face. First major compliment and it is cute?
“Not filtering my speech, I think I’m a little worried about cute.” I frown as I regard her. “Isn’t cute a term for children and possibly ladies?”
She lets out one of her hearty laughs. “I suppose that’s how people view the word. But actually it can also mean young and attractive. That is how I meant it.” She winks.
My heart skip a dozen beats. “Ah… um, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She beams at me.
We soon arrive and I ask her to grab us a seat whilst I bring over our orders.
I come back with our trays of food and slid into the seat opposite her.
She makes a speedy sign of the cross and digs into her chicken and fries.
“You’re catholic.” I state as I chew on the first spoonful of fried rice. Not bad, I absently commend the food.
“Cool.” She bobs her head as she cut into a drumstick. “I don’t care about denominations though. We’re all one so long as we are Christians, that’s my take.”
“I guess it’s how Christ wanted it.” I never think deeply about religion or faith. I do what I have to do and I leave whatever is left to God. It should be how it works, I always figure. You do your part, He does His.
“Oh, back to your earlier question… anyone charming me? I struck off to a general response then but…” she breaks off, murmurs a quick apology and picks her buzzing phone.
She’d given me a general response? And what the heck does that mean, general response? Is that ‘I didn’t quite tell you the truth’ or ‘I gave you a surface answer’? I impatiently push around my food until she drops the phone and flashes me an apologetic smile.
“That was him.”
“Him?” Him— who?
“The one charming me that I like his style.” Naomi grins. “I met him just last week; at the Mall. Ran right smack into him, can you believe it?” She lets out a delight-filled giggle. “His name is Kent—love that he has an unusual name for this part of the world. He is hot. Like super gorgeous hot and he…” She breaks off and cocks her head to the side. “You look… I don’t know, staggered? Is something wrong?”
“I… ah…” I shake my head. I am beyond staggered. She already has a guy? “I am only surprised. I mean I did not expect it. The invitation… the compliment. You want me to be totally honest…” I move my shoulders and drop my fork to press a hand against my suddenly throbbing temple.
See her, hug her, kiss her, huh? n your dreams , pal.
“Oh no! I am sorry. I like you. I do; but as a friend.” She took my other hand and rubbed it gently. “Pardon me if I gave you the wrong impression. I thought we were friends and you understood that. I guess I am always too effusive and don’t look hard enough. But you weren’t making any real moves—none I was familiar with at least—so I didn’t think you liked me like that.”
I raise my head. “I don’t. I mean I like you but not like that. Not like heavy-liking like.”
She lets go off my hand. “You don’t? Oh. I see. No, I don’t.” Her expression is confused. “So, why are you surprised then and look disappointed because I have someone else?”
“Because I thought you were going to be my first kiss.”
Immediately the words leave my mouth and her mouth drops in stupefaction, I mentally slap myself and make a firm decision to begin filtering my thoughts before they materialise into speech.
“Your first…” She stutters, her mouth quivers. Bemused laughter hovers in her eyes, around her mouth. “Are you saying you have never kissed?”
I close my eyes. Beg the ground to open and swallow me. It does not. I open my eyes again and sighing, I shake my head.
“Never?” She looks gobsmacked.
I shake my head again.
“Wow! Like trillion-zillion wow!”
I sigh again. “I figured now that I’ve turned twenty-one it is time to break that particular… well, unsullied record.”
“Oh my, you’re a virgin too?” She shakes her head. “Of course you are. No kiss, go figure.” Her eyes are filled with wonder. “I can’t believe I am sitting across a completely untouched man. You’re a marvel. That surely explains your turn of speech. Imagine, I had my first kiss at seventeen and at twenty-one you still haven’t done it. Amazing!”
My snooty head pipes ‘kiss-slut’. But I drown out the thought. “It’s amazing… and embarrassing. My friend, Rodney, thinks there is something wrong with me. I don’t, but he could be right.”
“He so is not!” Naomi vehemently objects. “You’re special, that’s what you are—special. And your first kiss is got to be special. It can’t just be anyone. It has to be someone special.”
I look at her. Really, look at her and I fall… in-like with her.
Journal Entry: Third week ends without a kiss but I found a real friend. A girl not-for-kiss-and-sex friend. Good.
Nothing significant happened the most part of this fourth week except that Rodney tried to hook me up with a girl and I said a hell no!
See you guys next week and…
Don’t kiss every mouth out there. Bacteria is actually germs.