I Met Her for the First Time and Nearly Ran Mad

One day, I received a WhatsApp message from a friend of mine. He sent me a list of girls’ numbers, and the message read, “Bro, go wild. These ones are easy.” He even pointed out one specific girl and said, “This one is fast. She won’t waste your time.”

I understood exactly what he meant. So I texted her. And truly, she did not waste time at all. She agreed to my arrangement without stress.

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It was Saturday. We decided to meet the next day, Sunday morning at 11 a.m., and head to a guesthouse at Sapeiman on the Nsawam road. Since I have a car, we agreed I would pick her up around the Pobiman tollbooth area.

Everything was set. I went to bed excited, smiling like a thief who just found gold. In my head I was thinking, “Tomorrow di3, I will eat sweet.”

Sunday morning came. I arrived at the filling station and waited. But she was not showing up. I started getting worried and desperate. Then she called and said, “I am almost there.” My happiness rate jumped to 500%. I was already imagining the guesthouse bed, the air conditioner, and the sweet ‘thing thing’ ahead.

She called again and asked about the colour of my car and exactly where I was parked. While we were still on the call, I saw a lady walking by. I thought she was just passing. But I noticed she was making a call. A few seconds later, my phone rang. It was her.

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For a few seconds, I froze. I didn’t know what to think. My heart was beating fast, and my mind was confused. I felt shocked and surprised. The person I saw wasn’t the girl from the photo. I just sat in the car, but inside, I was asking myself, “What is going on?”  I kept thinking, “What at all is this?” But I stayed calm and told her to get in.

Now here is the shock of the century.

The picture she sent me was not the person standing in front of me. Not even close. She was a full-blown tomboy. She wore ‘nikka’ shorts, a T-shirt, and boys’ sandals and had a low haircut like a barber’s apprentice.

I asked her, “Why did you send me someone else’s picture?”

She looked me dead in the eye and said, “I only want sex. So there is nothing wrong. After all, I am still a woman. I have everything a woman has.”

I could not believe my ears. The boldness. The confidence. The madness.

In my head I said, “This girl is a gangster. No wonder she is a tomboy.”

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So I started thinking of how to escape this mess, and then it hit me. I remembered Number 2. The washroom excuse. I turned to her and said, “I’m really sorry, but my stomach is not okay. I need to rush home and use my own bathroom.” She looked at me and said, “But we can use the one at the guesthouse.” I shook my head and replied, “No, I don’t feel comfortable using other people’s washrooms. I prefer mine.”

She nodded and stepped out of the car.

The moment she closed the door, I picked up my phone and blocked her number. No time to waste. I started driving away, heart still pounding, wondering how someone could lie like that and still act so bold. While I was still on the road heading home, thanking God for how I escaped all of this, she called again with a different number. I didn’t recognize it, so I picked up. The moment we ended the call, I blocked that one too.

Because how can you deceive me like that? You send me a photo of a beautiful girl, get me hyped and excited for the business at hand, only to show up dressed like a boy, nikka, shirt, boys’ sandals, and on top of it all, with a boy’s haircut?

How do you do that?

—David

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