Handbook of a playboy (2)


It happened that my first shot at emotional aluta was nothing to write home about coupled with shades thrown at me by friends and foes, I started playing the game. I had lots of homies who never stuck to one punani. As a matter of belief, sticking to one punani was a sign of weakness; who wants to be regarded as a weak man? No one I suppose. There were lots of defeats to experience as a one woman soldier but lots of victories to relish as a game boy. For instance, you become sad, the day your one and only babe says she can’t make it to your crib for reasons you do not comprehend. Same sad fate befalls you if she refuses to follow you to a dinner or let you shine her kongo.

A guy with different networks cannot experience a bad day trying to connect to the world. If MTN is misbehaving, Glo to the rescue. If Glo decides to beat mtn’s stupidity, you port to Etisalat; never a dull moment. This is exactly the life of a player.

After Ruqayyat dealt a painful upper cut to my heart, I met Grace, a dark skinned delectable 300 level student, though I was in part two at this time, my confidence and exploit were boundless, limitless and fearless. I couldn’t say for precision what Grace wanted, but yours truly wasn’t interested in any emotional loquaciousness. All I cared about was fun, fun and more fun.

Covertly and overtly, Grace seems to be emotionally excited about me which made life an oxymoron for me. I needed space to accommodate other accounts but her clinginess posed a great challenge. At every point in time, she wants to know where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, what I ate, what I didn’t eat. I didn’t bargain for any of these. If I didn’t answer these questions, it would be a dagger to her heart. Intelligent answers would suffice. “if the iron be blunt and he do not whet the edge, then must be put to more strength: but wisdom is profitable to direct. (Ecclesiastes 10:10). Thank God for wisdom. Grace believed all the lies I dished out because they were intelligently concocted. Poor Grace.

On a particular evening, I was hanging out with one of my consignments, Grace wanted to see me. She called my line, it didn’t go through. Of course, as a smart player you should be able to predict what period your self-styled number one may require your attention. The appropriate thing to do is to go incommunicado until you want to be reachable. I will elaborate on this later.

Grace wanted to see me for something extremely important; I was nowhere to be located. When we eventually saw, she gave me a redefined slap and requested to know where I was and what I was doing. i-i-i-i-i-i was…


To be continued

written by: Emmanuel Amani