Johannesburg – So, instead of moaning that I have no man, I decided to go out and find one because I will need someone to change my diaper when I’m 89.
None of my friends could assist me because their husbands are dodgy and rich, while I’m looking for someone to complement my looks and not scare my grandchild.
I tried looking at the local political party branches but, after hearing “comrade” for the 10th time in under two minutes, it was time to go.
I work from home, so I figured I would wait in my passage for one, even a delivery man or a regular postman.
But after three days, it proved futile.
So off I went to the mall, as clearly one has to be accessible to find a man.
Those who say men should chase you or approach a woman, and that you should never go after them, have never had cobwebs.
The men in skinny jeans were fascinating as they could not walk with ease and the bulge was too pronounced for a first date, so I moved on.
“I could not be thinking about squashed balls during lunch.”
The dangerous-looking lads in North- Face gear are always interesting as they are either in the arts, filmmakers or mercenaries, but alas, there was only one and he was wearing a wedding ring, so I stayed away, as I can’t be fighting over a man who uses free Wi-Fi.
I ended up chatting to a lovely Scottish man who has lived here for a while and was smitten until I saw he had missing teeth and was wearing flip-flops.
How do I introduce a man who exposes his feet in public to anyone?
So I explained I had diarrhoea and had to run. Literally.
I am attracted to clean men, so I looked hard for a bald man, but it was s-curls, dreadlocks and Rebecca Malope hairstyles everywhere.
Of course, I stayed away from men in chains as I’m not 16 or going to be seen to be dating a rapper or drug dealer, or a Russian pimp.
The manhunt was getting exhausting as the standard was low.
Men were carrying man bags, if not wearing jerseys or open-toed shoes in the rain.
I tried the gym, but the bulges and poses were such a turn off since no one wants a man in lycra flaunting his package before noon.
I then considered funerals or a church, but that’s time-consuming because I would have to sit through the service, but not if I arrived 10 minutes before it ended.
Yes! I went to church.
I was standing at the back checking out hot single men and clapping my hands out of sync and singing songs I didn’t know.
Then I heard the pastor has three single brothers. I was excited to finally meet a man who could get me saved.
I couldn’t wait for my turn to receive the holy communion.
I was beaming with excitement that I would be leaving with a phone number or two.
Until I saw the pastor. I wanted to be a Christian and I wanted to be saved, but not like this.
The man looked like Shrek and I could not even imagine what his brothers looked like, so after communion, I excused myself and left as nobody is that desperate.
Maybe I should try jail next week, as I read somewhere that the men in orange are the ultimate sexual healers.
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