When judgement is being passed on single women who buy male trousers and pray to God to fill them, I will not appear on that list, for I have traipsed all over the world (not literally) to find a man. They say Kusema na Kutenda.
I have done everything, including trying Tinder, which we all know is a carefully camouflaged sex orgy platform. But I was still willing to give it a try. They say beggars can’t be choosers. What eventually convinced me was when my 24-year-old friend told me she found a pilot there. Pilot, my friends.
So, I renewed my passport just in case I would be required to fly out suddenly and went on a proper hunt. I spent a week there swiping left on faces of married men (I knew most of them). Tinder (the free one) boxes you to choose from a few, bad choices of men. After the horror of seeing a friend’s husband there, I decided to delete the app and forget about it.
Until I travelled to Amsterdam for three weeks. Something wild was awakened in me. What if I bumped into my handsome, blue-eyed prince there?
I also spoke to a friend who convinced me to pay a premium fee of Sh1,900 (approx) so I could have the best experience possible. I was raring to go. In my first week of Tinder adventure, I matched with six yummy men. Some black, some white, some hard to tell.
I was on a roll.
They hit my inbox or I hit theirs; I really don’t know who initiated the conversations. All I know that 3 of them said hello back and that was it. Not a single word after that. One did not bother to say hello at all even when I waved.
People, have you ever been ghosted on Tinder? Ei. Anyway, I moved on to Arne (Not real name) who wanted to know everything about me. His leather jacket, piercing eyes and coarse beard added the allure any women who’s dated online knows she needs. We chatted and chatted and chatted.
Then came the question: “What do you look for in a man?”
I sat on my bed properly to answer in a way that seemed witty but not desperate: “Clean, kind, humorous. Must shower daily,” I said.
The laughing emojis I expected did not follow. Instead, he said what he was looking for from a woman was this:
“Somebody who is not an alcoholic and somebody who will not get depressed.”
Because I could not gauge whether my love for alcohol could be misconstrued for addiction, I answered with a lame:
“I can’t promise I won’t be depressed. How could I?”
“I took care of a girlfriend who was a depressed alcoholic. I’m not going to do it again”
Let’s just say I’m the one who did the ghosting this time.
So ladies, if you’re a teetotaler with excellent mental health looking to date a man from Amsterdam, look for me. I will hook you up.
I became wary of Tinder after that and deleted it as soon as I landed back in Kenya. But this does not mean I will never try it again. Or maybe I will try out the “Date My Age” App I’ve seen floating around. Who knows?
Perhaps the next love on the internet story will be mine.