Sex and the Single Bloke Part 7 (The Rules of Engagement).

I have been single ever since my last girlfriend tried to set me on fire three years ago. My single status is not down to lack of opportunity, but due to certain things that my potential mates seem to lack, my angst had led me to draw up certain dating faux-pas which have nipped potential relationships in the bud. I pray you all read without prejudice and keep an open mind. If any of you have broken any of the rules of engagement previously, you might just have a certain boor to thank for putting things right and preventing further howlers.

Rule 1: Be yourself.

On too many occasions I have dealt with women trying their possible hardest to impress and making absolute prats of themselves. I remember going out to dinner with a Naija babe. She was very pretty and carried herself really well; (or so it seemed) however she was an extremely pretentious Europhile, and was of the impression that I would be impressed by her supposed level of exposure.

"Oh Boor, I love this restaurant" she said as we were shown to our table. "It reminds me of when I had escargot on the Champs-Élysées".

Gaddemmit woman, you ruined a great date for the boor, for crying out loud couldn't you have just said that you once went to a great restaurant in Paris that served great snails? You are razz, in my view razzness is poverty of the mind, razzness is trying to be what you are not.

Escargot ko’, Egbin ni.

On another occasion I attended a house warming at my newlywed friend’s home. It was a nice party, filled with real intellectual types, and would have been a great evening, but for my date. The discussion at the table centered on how the UK and the US seemed to be inching towards totalitarianism and how civil liberties were gradually being eroded.

My date (pretty girl from The Cape Verde), felt she had to contribute, and from that moment things went wrong.

“I agree that our civil liberties are being snached away from us”.

“We are constantly being watched, CCTV cameras everywhere, and we are being conditioned by the media to accept it”.

“Why do you say that?” Asked my host. As the attention of the entire table turned towards my date.

“Don’t you watch Big Brother?” Asked my date, growing more confident with every word she spoke.

“Sam Rockwell wrote a book called Big Brother in which, he tried to warn us against accepting such.

Worrahell woman, you mean George Orwell and the bloody book is called 1984.

Olodo Oshi.




Rule 2: Do not break the crap barrier.

Please women give the dude six months of grace before you feel free enough to lay a hot loaf in his loo, by then he ought to like you enough not to mind you either cutting cheese or dropping the kids off at his pool at his pool. My unfortunate experience was with an English chick I had only just started dating. Boorish was on a high, this was someone that finally seemed to get his sense of humor, she invaded my space and I couldn't get enough of her. She was pretty, intelligent, eloquent and so damn well mannered (or so it seemed). Our fourth date, was a Friday night and I invited her back to my place, she got comfortable, and agreed to stay over.

"Great". I thought. "We have all night, no need to rush things".

We had more to drink, flirted a fair bit and decided to retire for the night, I put on the slow music, kissed her a little and left to take a shower (I needed to be fresh and clean). I got back and there was a strange whiff in the room;

“Oh no!” I said to myself. “She ought to have avoided the Brussels sprouts”

It was in the middle of winter so I just couldn't open a window and let air in, therefore I was faced with two choices. I could either grit my teeth and bear it, or burn some incense in the room. I decided to go for the incense, however the pungent mix of fart and incense was deadly, and the mixture formed a hallucinogenic more potent than LSD. I felt myself beginning to trip and suddenly I could understand the meaning of the lyrics of ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ by the Beatles, I was settling into my psychedelic journey when I heard a voice say:


"I need to shower as well hun" she said, trying hard to hide her embarrassment.

I led her to the shower and left her to it, twenty minutes went by and still no sign of her, so I decided to make sure all was well. I got there just as she was leaving the shower, she hugged me and offered to give me a massage. I had no massage oil, but I figured that baby oil would be a good enough substitute. I went looking for it in my medicine cabinet, only to be confronted by a sight which has stayed with me since then. A sight so terrifying, that I constantly woke up screaming for three weeks afterwards, a sight so traumatizing that I fell to my knees screaming NOOOO!!!!


My date left a little pebble dash in my loo.


Rule 3: Do not argue over money.

I once dated a Naija babe that made a ritual of laying an ambush for me every payday, she was so damn selfish, and refused to acknowledge the fact I was trying to save money. I sure as hell wasn’t miserly towards her, but she always wanted more. The final straw was when she put me in African handcuffs; The Boorish English Dictionary defines the African Handcuff as: Traditional restraint practiced by African women, usually against errant husbands). The interesting thing about African handcuffs is that the restrainer does not actually put the restrainee’s hands in cuffs, but rather the restrainer holds the belt of the restrainee and secures her grip by grabbing his collar as well.

“That woman had better not start something today”.

Boorish said to himself, in spite of his chutzpah; he had a strange sense of foreboding and in the back of his mind knew that the she-devil would bare her fangs once again. The omens stated the obvious and it seemed his sixth sense was warning him of something ominous in the offing. Beads of sweat poured down his face and the hairs on his back stood on end as he approached his home.

“Why does this happen every payday?”

All of a sudden boorish experiences the fight or flight reflex as he sees the terrifying sight of his girlfriend outside his door with her arms akimbo and her face like thunder.

“Boorish, I want that goddamn Birkin bag I pointed out last month”.

“Boorish, I cannot believe you have pushed me to this point”

“Boorish why didn’t you take the initiative and buy the bleeding bag?”

“Boorish, today is payday and you have no choice”.


Boorish he was ready to repel the attack, but she was too well trained in physical combat (by her own mother). She was as stealthy as a Tigress moving in for the kill, and as quick as Mary Onyali on coke. She assumed the tiger stance and applied the African hand cuff to boorish.

The relationship didn’t last much longer.


Rule 4: Don’t overdo the fronting:

One of the first rules of negotiation is that you should never price yourself out of a deal. Why do some women love teasing? Why do they feel that the worse they treat a man, the more interested he will be? Why do they feel they must keep a man hanging? Why must they end the conversations abruptly and maintain this upper hand that only exists in their heads? The truth is that you can keep a man interested and show a keen interest in him without putting him off. If you are interested, be interested and don’t play games.