I was in my corner thinking about myself this Christmas when my friend Jennifer called in the afternoon talking about a date. She said her abroad boyfriend was in town and wanted to go out with her and her best friend, so she was calling to give me a heads up.
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In the evening, I dressed up for the kill, not knowing what the night was even about. We got there and met two gentlemen already seated. They looked older, and it made me wonder which one Jennifer called a boyfriend, but when they saw us, Jennifer hugged one of them, and it gave me a clearer picture of who that one was.
They asked us to place our order, which we did. Jennifer’s boyfriend welcomed us and Jennifer introduced me to them. The other guy asked Jennifer, “Is this the lady you said you were bringing to me?”
Then he got up, took my hand, and kissed it. He even suggested we get another table separated from Jennifer and her boyfriend, but I said I was fine being with them.
The food came and we ate. The drinks came one after the other, and we did them justice. I don’t drink alcohol, so I kept saying no to all alcoholic drinks. This man moved from his seat and took another seat next to me so he could speak into my ear. He said, “You’re exactly the woman I’ve been waiting for. I hope you’ll let me marry you?”
This is a man in his fifties ooo. He could be in his third marriage with fifteen children, looking at the size of his belly. I kept pulling away from him, but he didn’t know how to read the room, so I figured it would all end soon and I would not see him again.
Then Jennifer’s boyfriend asked Jennifer if she would be going home with him, but this man next to me quickly answered, “Oh yes, they are going home with us. Do you even need to ask?”
I said in my head, “Eiii, where did this man buy his confidence from?”
Jennifer said, “It all depends on what my friend will say.” I retorted, “No, I’m not going home with anyone. We only met here tonight. I didn’t even know what this night was about. Maybe next time.”
This potbelly man got angry: “What are you talking about? You don’t know us, but you were comfortable eating and drinking what we bought. If you’re not going with me, then pay for what you took.”
The place went quiet. I was shaking with anger, but I didn’t have money, so I had to learn to be obedient. After a while, Jennifer’s man asked again, and I nodded that I would follow them. This potbelly man started smiling widely, throwing his arm around my neck in all joy.
I left my bag on the table and asked to use the washroom, and that was all for the night. I ran home knowing very well Jennifer would bring my bag. I turned my phone off, got home, and slept like a log. I saw Jennifer the next day and we burst out laughing. She said, “I knew you weren’t coming back. What lady visits the washroom without her bag?”
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Marriage Through the Eyes of Millennials and Gen-Z
I asked what happened afterward, and she said the man was so angry he kept blaming her for planning all that with me. Because of that, he didn’t pay a dime. It was Jennifer’s boyfriend who paid for everything.
This was how a man wanted to use me for kebab this Christmas.
—Marie
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