Men with sweet tongues: why I avoid them

In my many years of living, I have come to learn to take caution when dealing with men talented in speech. My experience with them has been one hell of a show. I gave myself a standing ovation the day I shut the door on their faces.

As a teenager, all I yearned for in a relationship was a boy who could whisper sweet nothings in my ear whether he meant them or not. Sweet words - other than actions - took me to cloud nine and all I did was watch my peers recite a little Rosary in their boyfriends’ favour. Little did I know I should have been directing all the prayers to myself.

I remember breaking up with a man in my early 20s, simply because he didn’t know the meaning of ‘sweet nothings’.

He was always talking about and planning the future while I was busy living the present. I told him to walk into the future and wait for me there as I swung my stiff hips towards the man who ran the show then.

OK, not that I have stiff hips. I just think they aren’t as fleshy as they were when I had the chance to swing them.

Right now they are better off mark timing in some barracks somewhere in the remote areas of the country waiting to be deployed. Ooooh, how I miss those days when I could make heads turn! When I could raise my hand to wave at someone and the whole crowd of people ahead of me would wave back. Like a star, I would wave right back releasing the greatest of smiles South of the Sahara and North of Limpopo.

Right now, I can specifically wave at someone and the person will look behind to confirm if indeed the wave is directed at them. That’s how much my world has changed, or maybe it’s intact and the rest of the world has changed.

Before you start laughing at me, let me make it clear that I am still very marketable, appealing to the eye and promising.

In fact, my research tells me that if the Duke of Cambridge Prince William saw me before he saw his wife, he would have married me instead. I would now be the Duchess of Cambridge!

Don’t dare dispute my research! Go do your own research and if your findings differ from mine, lock them in a cabinet, throw away the key and choose another career because research is not your cup of tea.

Anyway, what life has taught me is to avoid sweet talking men with all my heart, mind and soul. In fact, if anyone refers to me as ‘Bae’ or ‘Sweety’, I will immediately show them the door regardless of whether they will make it in life or not. If you cannot refer to me as Beryl, kindly take the next plane to wherever because more likely than not, your future is darker than quarter past midnight.

I need a man who will lift his right hand like the late Nelson Mandela and instead of shouting ‘Amaaaandla’ he will shout ‘Beeeeryl, you are the fairest of them all’.

I need a man who will agree with me that it is more fun landing on the pulpit using a parachute on our wedding day than walking down the aisle at a snail’s pace in a white gown humming “Here comes the bride”.

Don’t give me that look as if such men are extinct! I know they are somewhere still maturing just like fine wine. Dear future husband, wherever you are, spend little, save more, think big and talk less for your rib awaits you right here!

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