YOU CAN'T SPELL LOVE WITHOUT "L"

 "Bonsoir Ma cherie. Vraimennnnt, tu es belle. Je peux avoir ton contact?" I said to her, as she waited on her motorbike. She gave me the blank stare before riding off.

“Did I say something wrong?” “Was it my accent?” As much as I take pride in my oral proficiency in French, during conversations with native speakers, I often get remarks about my accent. “Had I been too direct?” The other day, Ahmed used the same line at a traffic light stop, and before the light turned green he had saved her number. “Was it because I was on foot?” I had just descended from a taxi as I got back from work when I saw her waiting in front of the store. I had even smiled for effect.

These were the thoughts that ran through my mind as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. I had just been handed an 'L' - an away 'L'. It was my second snub of the kind in as many years.

My first snub occurred back in Benin City while I was a youth corper.

It was a Saturday morning at the Sam Ogbe stadium. As usual the stadium ground was buzzing with people who had come for workout sessions. You’d often see men and women with bellies to trim, kids, and trainers working with their workout groups, and of course pretty ladies as well.

It was during one of those Saturday mornings that I had first seen Lota Chukwu. This was before “Jenifa’s Diary”. She was always on her mat doing her yoga routines. I was always fascinated by her flexibility.

Anyways, on this day, I tracked down this fine babe after she was done with her rounds. A light-skin, and most likely in her late teens, 20 at most. She wore a T-shirt and long tights.

Luckily she was alone and on foot, so I waited for her to exit the stadium premises, before giving her a chase. I quickly put on my track pants (trousers) just to appear taller, as I had done my workouts in shorts. I thought about the opening words to say, or the “pick-up” lines to use. To be honest, I was not sure what I was actually going to say. I just wanted to talk to her and possibly get her number.

“Hey...Hello...”, I don’t know how many times I said that, but it obviously fell on deaf ears as 'Aunty' kept on walking. No response. Not even glance was made in my direction.

What was I going to do? The soap was becoming glaring. At least, I felt it. This babe was fine!

I had one more play. She had her name imprinted on the back of her T-Shirt. I thought that if I could at least call her by her name she’d respond.

“Hey, Chi*$%#&)” I said, as the words came out...It sounded awkward, even to my hearing.

“You see yourself, you can’t even pronounce my name well”, she bluntly remarked with an igbo accent.

I froze in embarrassment.

I wished the ground would open up and swallow me, as I looked around hoping no one had heard.

“What a mistake!” Following her was a mistake but failing to pronounce her name correctly was the unpardonable mistake. I wish I could undo it.

Meanwhile, with the way my heart was pounding hard before I approached her, I felt something tragic was about to happen. I should have listened to my heart. Instead, I assured myself with that false assurance guys are accustomed to, before giving a chase.

“Be a man”, I repeatedly told myself. I was barely twenty-one.

I found the courage to turn back and acted like I hadn’t just been handed the biggest 'L' of my young adulthood.

On getting to my apartment, I questioned whether my intentions were pure or had I been infatuated by her appearance? I concluded that this 'L' had nothing to do with love, but rather lust.

Thereon, I decided never to approach a lady in such a manner. It was the first and the last time until recently. I believe when I eventually find love, it’s going to be spelt differently. Perhaps with more than one 'L'.

About the Author: Aderuku Tomisin

 As a Lawyer, writer and bi-linguist, Tomisin Aderuku possesses a creative and inquisitive mind. Often a sports writer, he his however open to exploring other areas of interests such as the Arts, Politics, Lifestyle etc, through the pen. Follow Tomi on Twitter @Wale_Ruku