The Nollywood date

I can’t say as I have much time for Nollywood since my encounter with an obsessed fan. After weeks of internet flirting we met at a bar and…..there was an awful lot more flesh than I was used to and Maxine (my budda belly) was feeling decidedly anorexic in comparison.

Anyway we danced, drank and agreed to meet again. I wasn’t going to but then he admitted that his recent weight gain was because work had been hectic and he hadn’t been to the gym. I thought about my own annual trip to the gym and ignored the fact that he kept bumping me with his belly every time he laughed. He invited me around for dinner and I don’t miss an opportunity to get a home cooked meal that hasn’t been burned by me. Maybe it was the cocktails but I was feeling more gracious than usual and acquiesced.

So after three hours prep I turn up at his Hendon place (1st mistake) on a Friday night looking effortlessly post work. No need for him to know I sat in my PJs all day. He buzzes me in and he’s…….in his PJs? And not the good sort of PJs no, these were the stained ex gym gear mix and don’t match variety PJs. I don’t smell anything cooking and the lounge says that he and his X box are settled in for the night.

I sit down and ask him what’s for dinner. He says Pizza. I tell him that I’m lactose intolerant. He says “Oh!” and goes back to the X box. At least, I think it was an X box. I’m quickly bored and decide to explore his DVD collection. Surprisingly I don’t recognise one title and that’s because….they’re all Nollywood films. In an attempt to distract him from Hounds of Fisty Screams or whatever I ask him about his DVDs and ….it worked! He switches off the contraption, bungs in the pizza (not one of Tesco’s Finest) and starts showing me his favourite Nollywood clips, laughing incessantly and telling me about his Nollywood babes’ sexual fantasies… great detail.

Spurred on by his fantasies he decides it’s time for the pin and lunge game. His lips and stomach pin me to the sofa. All I can remember is his full stomach pressing into my now hungry concave tummy. I struggle and he pushes me further still into a 20 year old sofa.

I finally manage to release a hand, tear his lips off of mine and ask about the Pizza. As he goes to investigate I grab my phone and make up an excuse to leave. I think my non-existent cat had its 7th illness that night.  I call my Addison Lee and as I turn to say goodbye I realise that he has already forgotten me. It’s him, his pizza and the babes of Nollywood.  So I don’t think Nollywood men are for me my precious. I prefer to be the star of any date.

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