Pimp-Pong

Science tells us we can control all our actions; they say sometimes even reflexes if we try hard enough. Can we really control all? Can we control falling in love, true love? Don’t ask me, I don’t believe there’s such a thing as ‘true love’. But back to the main question, can we? Can we choose who to fall in love with or are we just led by our lust and conditioned specifications? If your answer is yes, then you could have true love with anyone of your choice. And if no, then is love a reflex? Could it be reflex of seeing that boy with a good physique, or a girl with a nice ass? Is that love? Here’s a story of - let’s say - Ekaette.

“So, there I was in 200 level second semester, waiting to finally date someone, by that I mean find someone that finally meets my specifications. 200l was the right time, I had it all planned out. 100l the plan was to study and get a good GPA, which I did.  My specifications are quite simple; taller than me, handsome, intellectual and funny. Although being rich is also an added advantage. I was equally beautiful, not drop dead beautiful like Genevive but I better pass Gbemi of BeatFM Lagos. But there was a slight glitch; boys were not coming my way or at least the ones I wanted. I’m not saying I was a saint and didn’t’ have occasional flings with boys in my freshman days, but I just didn’t see anyone of them as worthy of building a relationship with. Perhaps because I never got goose bumps like I imagined or because the sight of them never instantly made me horny or maybe I was just foolish and naïve.  So I reduced my standards and resorted to taller than me, and handsome. After a while I resorted to just handsome. But even at this, I couldn’t find anyone to call bae.

It was a wavy Thursday afternoon when I met him, his eyes were strangely blank but filled with desire, he clearly didn’t hide it. His slouched gait when he walked showed he was confident in his own looks and the way he easily smiled, almost like his life was filled with no stress or worries. He walked up to me and politely asked for my number after the usual pleasantries. After his first call I knew God Answers Prayers so I saved his name with GAP. You think that’s bad? Wait till you see Michael Ventura, Suya Boy, and Seun Shawarma.

So I met GAP a couple times inside school at night, he stayed at Agbowo and would come all the way down to my hall late at night. I remember our first kiss, it happened along Tech Road, I felt distraught but also delighted that I was his first kiss or so he claimed. I wanted so bad to believe him. I was Asa in her Bibanke song – hanging on to his words.

We were at his place and he played the movie “Addicted”. We kissed but went no further. Till the sexy painter guy seduced the smitten sexy woman. That scene was the proverbial last straw that broke the camel’s back. We had sex for the first time that day, and he was really gentle yet I could feel his strength. I liked the warm feel of his skin against mine, suffice to say, I was smitten and already drunk in love. Then it began to happen more frequently, sometimes with condoms, some times without. It was all rosy until after one of our frequent trysts, I stumbled upon a Whatsapp chat on his phone. Okay, I didn’t stumble on it, I went through his phone. It was from his friend, for this article he shall be known as (yes, you got it!) the bahd guy. He was one of the few people I had “things” with back in 100 level
“How far package now?”                                                                                                              
“That one? She dey come today”                                                                              
“My guy I swear you lucky, that girl they blow pass boko haram.”
                            
“Lol, na you I suppose dey thank mehn, if you no show me way I for still dey with that yeye Blessing”                                                                                    
“We don dey pass that one now, I even get another one for you sef, make I finish with am fest lmaoo”. And so it went - on and on.

So apparently I had become a commodity to be passed around. Pimped out and played like a tennis ball, served and smashed. I decided to play nice and picked up my things and left his apartment in shame. Okay, I lied again. I may have rubbed a “particular” part of his body with aboniki before I left.
Weeks passed and GAP didn’t call to apologise, even after I texted him several times telling him I knew what he had done. I missed my period (Afmag fans screaming, ‘I knew it! I knew it!!’) for a week and I sent him a message saying I might be pregnant and he blocked me from his whatsapp. Thank God I wasn’t pregnant.

The only reason I am sending this story is so you can send a public message to the bastard, I don’t care if you use my real name. (Disclaimer: The following statements do not represent the views of UISTT. The sentences represent the views of the sender of this story who vehemently insisted on us writing this verbatim).  Now this is not something like ajoking stuvv but Deolu, this is from Shola:    
“You will regret this I swear! God punish you and your small dick.”