In the days when we’re mad about getting meat monsters and sausages randomly to our inboxes, I actually requested one.
Picture it. Sunday rooftop club day party.
In the blazing Johannesburg afternoon sun.
I’m feeling cute except the sun seems to be following me everywhere I sit. No matter how much water I drink I’m unable to cool off. And honestly, the little bit of shade from the cute umbrellas was futile.
Do you see this sunshine?!
I’m sitting with this young couple casually chatting about social life, working and economy. Up walks this brother who mouths “I LOVE HER” as soon as he sees me and makes a beeline in my direction. The couple is laughing “the Nigerian men have a type and you check every box”. They could tell he was Nigerian from sight, I on the other hand had to wait to hear him speak to distinguish.
So in no time he’s attached to my hip. Telling me his adult life story. Buying drinks between chapters of his journey all while showing me photo evidence. Photo evidence! He had photos of his car, his retail store, his inventory, his business partner. So yes everything seemed to be in order.
But the drinks in combination with the heat are weighing on me. I feel myself fading. I’m asking him if I look flushed but he can’t stop telling me how beautiful I am while sizing up my curves.
So I decided to check for myself.
Yep lipstick faded and he unable to detach himself.
I felt a flash of heat overcome me, my body swelling and told him I just wasn’t feeling well and wanted to lay down. He gets excited and offers to drive me to my flat, unaware that I’m right next door. I decline his offer and remind him my travel companions are nearby and that we can continue the conversation later that evening.
Then out of nowhere he exclaims “well I have a huge penis” maybe in an effort to win me over.
BLINK. BLINK. BLINK.
“It’s not that I’m not interested in you, I’m really not feeling well. We have exchanged numbers and I will call you when this flare up is handled.”
I get to my flat.
Elevate my legs.
Take a cool shower.
Drift off to a wonderful afternoon nap.
I wake to a slew of messages from him. Many about how much he loves me and thinks I’m beautiful. And how he would make love to a woman like me.
Then I recall his exclamation...well proclamation.
And I asked to see it.
And well let’s just say maybe he was using the metric system and something was lost in converting inches and centimeters.
It was average.
And average is good.
Actually very good.
But don’t exclaim HUGE when it’s not.
That’s like offering someone a blow pop but handing them a lollipop.
And nothing is wrong with a good lollipop.
I take many pics of my swelling to document for my doctors. I’m not THAT vain. MAYBE.