A club crush, a forehead kiss & a case of flaky Nigerian men.
and flirting is fun, regardless.
Hey readers!
It’s been an incredibly hot April in Lagos. The kind of heat that makes you question if we’re directly on the highway to hell. Which is believeable, considering the level of decadence and sin in this city. 🤐 Thankfully, the rains are here, but of course, that comes with its own issues: flash floods, mad traffic, and the slow death of our “mega city” dreams.
Anyway, let me tell you about this flirtatious encounter with a man who turned out to be a tease. I no longer spend time analysing the what ifs or should haves when it comes to my interactions with men, not at my age. I mirror their energy and just get on with it.
So here it goes.
While dancing with my girls at a nightclub recently, I locked eyes with a man across the room who gestured for me to come over. I smiled sweetly, shook my head, and pointed to my girls like, “you come to me, sir.” Why would I walk across the club for you? That’s not how this works. Not in my world.
Eventually, he made his way to our table, leaned in over the music, and introduced himself. But he wasn’t shooting his own shot. He said it was his friend, let’s call him Neo—a tall, bespectacled man dressed in dark blue native attire, complete with a matching fila, who wanted to meet me but was feeling shy.
Shy? In a club? Cute.
His friend was good-looking, and I was in a good mood, so I walked over, smiled, and invited him to join our table instead. We were celebrating my girl’s birthday, and I wasn’t about to ditch the crew.
Later, while dancing, I had my back to him when he slid his hands around my waist and pulled me in. Then, he leaned in and sucked on my ear.
Sir??
I turned, laughing, and said, “don’t start what you can’t finish.” He didn’t say a word, just smirked and sucked the other ear too. My mind spiraled. Why would you play with me like that?
He paid for our drinks, was sweet all night, and as he left, he kissed me softly on the forehead like some kind of sensual prince.
We exchanged a few texts after but his behaviour had my spidey senses tingling. Why didn’t he call?
And then, a week later, we ran into each other at the same club. We didn’t dance this time, but the sparks were still flying. Eye contact. Smirks. And a cheeky little back-and-forth about how he lives an active lifestyle.
I raised a brow and teased, “you look like you could lift me and all these,” I said rubbing my thighs and without missing a beat, he grinned and said, “walahi.”
Sir!! 😌
The tension was unspoken and electric. But just like the first night, nothing happened. He’s turned out to be flaky and nothing kills the vibe faster than that. Am I disappointed? A little. Do I still want to ride his face? Absolutely. Am I going to chase him? God forbid.
He’s filed under “hot but useless” in my mind. Too bad for him, because we would’ve had a good time.
Your turn:
Have you ever had a night so hot it lived rent-free in your mind and then ***poof ***gone? Leave a comment with your “hot but useless” stories.
What I am enjoying:
YouTube reviews of Sinners, the film by Ryan Coogler. If you’ve seen it and, like me, a few things went over your head, this creator did a great job breaking it down 👇🏾
Enjoy!