When gay means flaky
First, I'll like to define what I mean by flaky, because a quick research on the word revealed how its meaning can be quite ambiguous. Really, it's very simple. In this article, when I say flaky, I mean "likely to flake out of" an appointment. If you don't know what flake out means, well, there was a link for you.
Now, why am I writing about this, you might ask?
Someone I met on Grindr this week flaked out on coming over to my place just last (Friday) night. And one thing that really amuses me is the fact that I'm not as surprised or upset about this as I have been in past instances. It's like my mind was totally prepared for it, even though, I spoke to him on the phone a few hours before we were supposed to meet and he didn't give me any hints that he would be cancelling on me.
And it's not even like that was the first time we would be meeting, no! We had had lunch together on Thursday somewhere close to my workplace. I left that meeting feeling positive that we had enough chemistry to proceed with our hitherto-made hookup plan. And knowing how non-forthcoming a lot of people can be with telling someone they're not into them, I made sure to confirm more than once from my date that our plans for Friday night were still intact (after this physical inspection session).
Enter Friday morning, I chatted up my new friend on WhatsApp to confirm that our plans for the night were still intact. He didn't answer me until afternoon and when he did, he aptly avoided answering my question and instead just sent: "Hi Sup". I really don't know what I sent in response to that though, and I don't think it's relevant to this post.
Later in the day (evening), just a few hours before we were meant to meet, he chatted me up again with a greeting. At this point, I picked up my phone and called him, during which he told me he was heading to his house already. This didn't make a lot of sense to me, since my house lies in-between the place where he spent his day and his house which he was now travelling to. In my opinion, it would have been wiser for him to just chill somewhere around my house until I was done from the office.
He told me it wasn't really a problem, that he just wanted to rest at home after a long day out. I empathized with him and we agreed that I was gonna call him when I got home. Still, I left that call feeling like, "why would this dude put himself through the stress of travelling all the way home and then back in the opposite direction a few hours later at this time of the day"? But since he said it won't be a biggie, who was I to question his ways?
About an hour after the call, I got home. It was a particularly traffic free Friday night and it took me roughly thirty minutes to drive from workplace to home. Since I feel like I need to get tipsy to relax well enough to have enjoyable sex, I decided I'd stop by a mart around the office to get red-wine for the night. However, at the junction where turning right would mean heading straight for home and turning left would mean heading for the mart, I decided to turn right, knowing I'd feel burned if I bought pricey alcohol and this dude didn't show up.
Since a few shops stay open till almost midnight in my area, I decided to defer buying the alcohol till when my date arrives. That, my dear, turns out to have been the best decision I made this week, considering that alcohol is not something you'll find in my fridge on a regular day.
When I got home, I sent a Whatsapp message to my first hookup in ages, letting him know I was now home and ready to receive him (no pun intended). When he didn't respond or acknowledge for a few minutes, I decided I'd give him a call. I called him and his phone rang off twice with no answer. I made up an excuse for him and continued gleefully with my evening activities, positive that I'd hear from him in a short while.
Before I knew it, the last message I sent him on WhatsApp read: "one hour ago". Now, the time was like 9:30 pm. And I didn't need no seance to tell me what was happening here. So, I simply sent him a message, telling him I was going to bed now, since I had not heard from him in over 1 hour. And go to bed I did. Smiling contentedly about the fact that I had rightly put my expectations about having a splendid night with him in check.
This morning, I woke up and quite notably, there was no response to my last message to him. Neither was there a missed call from him. I promptly deleted his contact from my phone and deleted our WhatsApp conversation history altogether. Such a creep does not deserve anything beyond apathy from me. No, not even my anger or frustration.
Right now, it's 9 pm on Saturday and I'm still yet to get as much as a word from my dear Friday night date with whom I was get my first BDSM experience. Ropes, candles, belt and ..... (can't remember the last one), he had responded when I asked what we'll be needing for the session. I only hope that he wasn't kidnapped on his way to my place though. How mean of me not to even care to find out if that might have been the case?
To teach this guy a lesson he'll never forget, I've decided to reveal his identity in this post, something I've never done before out of better judgement. But this guy just chose the wrong time to mess with me because the world has now fully transformed me into a salty bitch who don't give no fuck no more.
Below is a picture of him. His name is Elyon Abakpa, he's from Cross-River state and he relocated to Lagos in 2016. Please make sure to keep eyes out for him and do not hesitate to help me give this useless village boy a taste of his own medicine if you ever get the chance.
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I have just one question to ask to finalize this post. Why are gay guys in Lagos so damn flaky? Guys, please grow some balls and tell someone if you're not interested in them ASAP instead of taking up their hopes and then dunking it at the last minute.
And lest I forget, FUCK YOU if you're one of the people who does this. Life is hard enough already without one running into people of your kind.
Now, why am I writing about this, you might ask?
Someone I met on Grindr this week flaked out on coming over to my place just last (Friday) night. And one thing that really amuses me is the fact that I'm not as surprised or upset about this as I have been in past instances. It's like my mind was totally prepared for it, even though, I spoke to him on the phone a few hours before we were supposed to meet and he didn't give me any hints that he would be cancelling on me.
And it's not even like that was the first time we would be meeting, no! We had had lunch together on Thursday somewhere close to my workplace. I left that meeting feeling positive that we had enough chemistry to proceed with our hitherto-made hookup plan. And knowing how non-forthcoming a lot of people can be with telling someone they're not into them, I made sure to confirm more than once from my date that our plans for Friday night were still intact (after this physical inspection session).
Enter Friday morning, I chatted up my new friend on WhatsApp to confirm that our plans for the night were still intact. He didn't answer me until afternoon and when he did, he aptly avoided answering my question and instead just sent: "Hi Sup". I really don't know what I sent in response to that though, and I don't think it's relevant to this post.
Later in the day (evening), just a few hours before we were meant to meet, he chatted me up again with a greeting. At this point, I picked up my phone and called him, during which he told me he was heading to his house already. This didn't make a lot of sense to me, since my house lies in-between the place where he spent his day and his house which he was now travelling to. In my opinion, it would have been wiser for him to just chill somewhere around my house until I was done from the office.
He told me it wasn't really a problem, that he just wanted to rest at home after a long day out. I empathized with him and we agreed that I was gonna call him when I got home. Still, I left that call feeling like, "why would this dude put himself through the stress of travelling all the way home and then back in the opposite direction a few hours later at this time of the day"? But since he said it won't be a biggie, who was I to question his ways?
About an hour after the call, I got home. It was a particularly traffic free Friday night and it took me roughly thirty minutes to drive from workplace to home. Since I feel like I need to get tipsy to relax well enough to have enjoyable sex, I decided I'd stop by a mart around the office to get red-wine for the night. However, at the junction where turning right would mean heading straight for home and turning left would mean heading for the mart, I decided to turn right, knowing I'd feel burned if I bought pricey alcohol and this dude didn't show up.
Since a few shops stay open till almost midnight in my area, I decided to defer buying the alcohol till when my date arrives. That, my dear, turns out to have been the best decision I made this week, considering that alcohol is not something you'll find in my fridge on a regular day.
When I got home, I sent a Whatsapp message to my first hookup in ages, letting him know I was now home and ready to receive him (no pun intended). When he didn't respond or acknowledge for a few minutes, I decided I'd give him a call. I called him and his phone rang off twice with no answer. I made up an excuse for him and continued gleefully with my evening activities, positive that I'd hear from him in a short while.
Before I knew it, the last message I sent him on WhatsApp read: "one hour ago". Now, the time was like 9:30 pm. And I didn't need no seance to tell me what was happening here. So, I simply sent him a message, telling him I was going to bed now, since I had not heard from him in over 1 hour. And go to bed I did. Smiling contentedly about the fact that I had rightly put my expectations about having a splendid night with him in check.
This morning, I woke up and quite notably, there was no response to my last message to him. Neither was there a missed call from him. I promptly deleted his contact from my phone and deleted our WhatsApp conversation history altogether. Such a creep does not deserve anything beyond apathy from me. No, not even my anger or frustration.
Right now, it's 9 pm on Saturday and I'm still yet to get as much as a word from my dear Friday night date with whom I was get my first BDSM experience. Ropes, candles, belt and ..... (can't remember the last one), he had responded when I asked what we'll be needing for the session. I only hope that he wasn't kidnapped on his way to my place though. How mean of me not to even care to find out if that might have been the case?
To teach this guy a lesson he'll never forget, I've decided to reveal his identity in this post, something I've never done before out of better judgement. But this guy just chose the wrong time to mess with me because the world has now fully transformed me into a salty bitch who don't give no fuck no more.
Below is a picture of him. His name is Elyon Abakpa, he's from Cross-River state and he relocated to Lagos in 2016. Please make sure to keep eyes out for him and do not hesitate to help me give this useless village boy a taste of his own medicine if you ever get the chance.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I have just one question to ask to finalize this post. Why are gay guys in Lagos so damn flaky? Guys, please grow some balls and tell someone if you're not interested in them ASAP instead of taking up their hopes and then dunking it at the last minute.
And lest I forget, FUCK YOU if you're one of the people who does this. Life is hard enough already without one running into people of your kind.
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Hey. Thanks for reading. Here's a space to tell me absolutely whatever you want to, especially if it's connected to your reading this article. Writing is hard and knowing that someone out there connects with what I write goes a long way to encourage future writing.