I think it is a fantasy of every girl to have a guy who spoils her rotten and buys her things. I know its easy to be labelled gold digger by wanting more but where is your ambition if you don’t at least try. I actually think men are not the ones who call us names but its other women. With Thabo, my boyfriend, I was lucky if I got airtime out of him which always came with a demand that it was meant to call him. This was regardless of whether or not he picked up the phone. I realized early on that I was the one who did all the chasing and he would tell me constantly that it is not the guys role to chase after his girl. He told me that it made him look weak and his friends will laugh at him if he did that. At the time it was fine and romantic. The thought that you controlled a guy and his emotions were in your hands gave me such a feeling of power. With time I learnt the bullshit behind it for he was even more independent than ever now that I had “all” the power. All he had to do was guilt me into doing something.
That whole week nothing of note happened until the weekend. Saturday when I went to Pick n Pay I bumped into him. By him I meant Siyanda’s dad. As now there was that acquaintance relationship I went to him and greeted him. I don’t know why but I joked at the fact that he had to cook for himself. His wife works in Cape Town and is actually a high someone in a political party. I think that’s what broke the ice. I think older men are not comfortable talking to young girls in public because for some reason it always seems wrong. He was not a scary man at all. He was a bit tall possibly 1.85. I know this because he was clearly just a bit taller than Thabo who was 1.8 on the dot. When you do sports at school all these things are available. I didn’t stay long with him though because I could feel eyes would stare eventually. At least kids from my school where not as scandalous as those from Mondeor High and Forest high whose videos we had all seen. I knew some girls had older men but it was that underground shit which you needed to drag out of people. I must admit though I liked the power that I had over him and how he seemed to melt in my presence yet maintain his composure.
When I got home he phoned me. I remember distinctly because my mum had just scolded me for not cutting the onions in small enough pieces. If there is anything I hate about cooking its cutting onions. With a mum like mine you had to cut them in a specific way. I swear you would think it would make them taste better the way it had be meticulous. On weekends our maid whom we referred to as mmane (aunt) was given the weekend off. She was a live in nanny for she came from the farms somewhere far but on weekends my mum always insisted it was mother daughter time so the kitchen was our domain. I didn’t hate it surprisingly but the chopping got to me. Anyway my phone rang and I answered. It was Siyanda’s dad. To say that first conversation was awkward is an understatement. We had that awkward first call conversation which consisted mainly on “oh’s/uuhs/pardon and ah’s”. I don’t know why though if you consider we hadn’t flirted or anything in the car nor in the shop. He just said he was checking when I can come for lessons. He even suggested that maybe I should bring the chubby girl I was with the other day referring to Cbowie. Not cool.
I knew she wouldn’t be there because they attended those churches that start at 9 and finish at 4. What on earth will the priest still be saying I wonder. My mother was a bit on the religious side but even she called it ridiculous. I told him I would ask my parents of which he said it was ok. We hung up at that. Why did that conversation feel so awkward though? I remember when I went back to the kitchen I couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation. He stopped being Siyanda’s father but had turned into a guy. My mum asked who was calling and I told her the truth that I had called Siyanda’s dad earlier and he was calling back. She said she was glad that finally someone was helping with the assignment. She asked if Cbowie was going with and I readily said yes. Another lie. Small lie big consequences.
I honestly don’t know what got into me. The following day after church I asked my mum to drop me at Sibongile house. This way she would have peace of mind that am going with Cbowie. I knew she was always in a rush to go to my grans to drop off a few things so she would leave me at the gate. As thing turned out my friend was there. I decided that it was best we go together as his words from yesterday were still in my ears, “uze naleso ‘Sdudla.” She is always keen that one. Her parents were at church still and it was on 2pm meaning they would only get home around four. When we got to his gate we buzzed and he opened for us. He was not alone. His nephew who also happens to be doing a similar project to mine was there also needing help. I think he did it on purpose though to avoid that awkwardness we had experienced on the phone. Maybe I was seeing things.
He made a bit of small talk first before we all started doing our projects. This man knew his stuff and we were eager students all three of us. Even Sibongile who at school is normally the last one to catch things was motivated because I think she was crushing on the nephew. Teenage life is funny. He (Siyanda’s dad) gave us orange juice as we worked. I made sure that I didn’t make any eye contact with him because I didn’t want him to see that he made me feel funny.
When the lesson ended we were done with our projects. For me it was a full four days before it was due something I had never done before. Sibongile still had a few sections but she too was almost done. The nephew I don’t care about he didn’t even go to my school.
As we were leaving he called me aside by saying he has a private message for my parents I must come to the study. No one suspected a thing. I mean who would have, this man was possibly older than my dad and he was like our “teacher”.
When we got to the study he asked me if he would like us to keep in touch. When I had no answer he told me he would like us to keep in touch. I just nodded and blushed profusely for I was not that naïve to realize I was being hit on. Somehow I felt ready and that I could handle it. He asked me to send me a call-back when I could speak tonight and to change his number on my phone to a girl’s name. All of which I agreed to. He then asked me for a hug. It was different from the kinds I got from Thabo because it was long and heartfelt. I might even say sensual. This man really sent electricity down my body BUT I didn’t even like him as a boyfriend just the potential.
With that we left!