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My dating mares: Old or young, guys are the same

 

Ras, where are you?” I yelled real hard even when I was sure he was not in close proximity. Do you even remember the ugly truth from Ras Darte?

He had assured me that if I acted desperate, men from all walks of life will come by and this prophesy has lived to its billing. I thought cross generational relationships only existed on the women groups in town but I was wrong.

I am the kind of person who loves listening to other women’s dating stories even when I am very sure my own are “mares” in themselves. To make sure I do not miss any gossip, cheap or expensive, I scroll down on the Mama Tendo Facebook page, or rush to Hot Mamas whatsapp group, both popular sites for Ugandans (especially women) for among other things the gossip in there.

On a daily basis, I just scroll down the page to catch up on what I have missed. Sometimes I imagine the ladies go through way too much or just want to seek attention, if not feel better about their actions and insecurities. To some, I am inclined to comment, even when in most cases I end up receiving a backlash. But it is just too hard to ignore some posts.

I am also in dating recess because apparently, I am trying to love myself before I can get anyone to love me and partly because the last episode of my dates were horrible. I kept wishing I could give myself time to think things through.

But undeniably, there are moments when I need someone (a guy to be specific) to just hang out with, have a beer or two, have dinner or ride around town, without having any strings attached (I know that sounds like detoothing to any traditional fella).

The grandfather of mares was when I stepped out of the taxi, while heading to work. A tall, old figure followed and kept making statements behind my back, which I ignored. When I finally turned around, he asked for my contact and introduced himself as Hillary.

He asked if I was always that smart and if we would go out sometime to grab a cup of coffee. I have always rolled my eyes whenever a guy my dad’s age or older approaches me because unknown to many, I love independence and freedom more than anything.

So last weekend I got into a conversation with Hillary and realised he had jetted into the country a few months ago. His annoying accent said it all. I accepted to meet him and we had a date that is better than any other with the younger guys.

He is good looking and one needs to take a second look at him to notice his creased face and a few grey hairs. He has taken absolutely good care of himself. From the conversation, I gathered he has two children and separated with their mother many years ago before heading to the United States.

Then I made conclusions about these shunned old men: They are a little more sophisticated and do not want to be with naïve girls engrossed in selfies all day long. They want women they can have ‘serious’ conversations with, all the time. They will only pause to comment on how you look and then resume with their business talk, their travel escapades and the kind of life they want.

Also, they are better placed to connect you to amazing persons and are not drama kings. They match the perfect slogan of ‘I do me’ as ‘you do you’ (implying the two of you mind your businesses) to make sure you both don’t clash.

I also noticed that with Hillary, every phone call or text was finding out how I was, how I slept and may be asking me on a date—which I often declined.
Not to bore you with these qualities, I still didn’t get why such men were shunned and referred to as sugar daddies. The stereotypes attached to them are pretty horrifying.

But Hillary was a different kind. After gullibly believing all his stories and developing an almost irreversible amount of respect for him, a friend hit my inbox warning me of a guy I was with, claiming he is married. I assured her it was an Uncle and she felt relieved. I then rushed to Facebook to dig up all his skeletons and realised he was a family man.

The journalist in me found out he had been deported from the US and has no formal job in the country. Now I want to swallow back my beautified qualities of older men. I want to name them childish or immature, liars, dramatic and professional cheats. I want to go to the street and say, old or young, men generally seem to be the same.

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