Like a gluttonous seagull successfully grabbing a tourist’s pizza with its beak and flying away triumphantly with the cheesy loot, W was gone.
My girlfriend visited Vancouver last week and as a wonderful hostess, Baby A and I decided to indulge her photo-taking obsession by taking a walk from Granville down to Waterfront. It was a weekday, way past lunch hour, and the streets of downtown Vancouver was bustling with life and people – which begs the questions of ‘who’s really in the office working if y’all are out here?’.
As we walked out of Granville train station, my gorg friend dressed to the 9s, me – dressed to the 0s in my mommy couture aka baggy shirt and pants, we heard a loud but soft male voice say ‘You look very familiar’. We both turned in the direction of the voice and we are faced with a tall, slender man briskly walking towards us from across the street.
As is peculiar with women, my friend and I like human-like AIs (think ‘Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator) took in all of this strange man in 0.000002 seconds and placed him in the appropriate group of ‘likely not dateable but let’s speak to him first’. He was dressed in a dark grey sweater that hugged his fleshy midsection roundly and loose, blue jeans. On his feet were matching gray patterned socks and worn out slides. His hair was dishevelled and almost tinted brown in the sun. His face though was smooth, refreshingly youthful and handsome.
My friend smiled and said ‘Me?’ to which he replied ‘Yes, you look familiar. Are you from Nigeria?’. At this point, I let out a loud exhale. I mean, does he know everyone in Nigeria to be familiar with each face, I thought to myself. My friend responded with ‘No’ and nothing more. She’s one worded like that.
He finally introduced himself as W, completely ignoring me and my son and the fact we had been standing listening to him badly try to pick up my friend for what seemed like forever. He then proceeded to ask if he could join us on our walk to wherever we were going. I smiled and looked back at my friend who agreed. As we walked, I gave them physical distance to freely discuss and get to know one another though I could catch bits and pieces of their conversation. Not even 2 minutes into our walk, W divulged to my friend that he is divorced and proceeded to share more personal details about his ex and her family.
I immediately remembered my big sis coaching me while I was serial dating years ago. ‘Do not bring up politics, religion or your past relationships on a first date. Keep the conversation light and comfortable’. I almost felt like turning to W and screaming ‘Nooooooo, too much info, dude! At least get her number first before you entirely move from likely-not-dateable to absolutely-not-ever-gonna-happen-undateable’. In true fashion, my friend stopped at a beautiful building and W eagerly volunteered to take her photos. I giggled to myself knowing that he had no clue what he had offered to do. He’ll work harder than a paid photographer with my friend, I murmured to myself.
After W took a million photos of my friend, of which she liked zero, we arrived Waterfront and saw the beautiful cruise ship named ‘Serenade of the seas’ that had just docked. As I watched it vomit persons after persons, my friend politely dismissed W with an excuse. Like the seagull who stole a cheesy delight, W got my friend’s number but unlike the seagull who got to eat the cheesy delight, W, unknown to him, never will.
It's Fifi 