Ruby's Search For Romance (A Nigerian Story)

Eight

"Ha, this one you are smiling sheepishly at your phone. Who is the new boo?"

Ruby rose her head sharply at the voice. She breathed out a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Ama, one of her very good friends in the company.

"It's just this guy I met on Instagram." The words tumbled out of her mouth with no control. She wanted to slap her mouth. She looked up at Ama, gauging her expression. What would this God-loving, immorality-rebuking girl say?

Ama burst out laughing. She raised a hand to cover her mouth when she realized how inelegant it looked. "Really? Do people really get boyfriends on Instagram?" She looked genuinely curious, leaning on Ruby's desk.

Ruby shrugged. She locked her phone, readying herself for a serious conversation. "I'm not sure. I've seen stories of how some people met their partners through Twitter or Instagram. But I feel most of it all is just fake."

"Really?" Ama thought for a few seconds before she said. "I've gotten private messages from men in the past, but I always assumed they were scammers or just out to catch fun."

Now, Ruby was intrigued. So with all the bible quotes and inspirational quotes Ama posted all over her social media accounts, there were still men rushing into her DM? "How many?" She pushed on.

Ama looked up at the ceiling. "I'm not sure. I had to block some of them, they kept on sending me some awkward texts. But of recent, there's been this guy, he has been responding to all my posts. He seems to like the same things as I do."

"Oh." Ruby leaned forward in interest. Was she going to change her social media strategy? "Did he chat you up privately?"

Ama's face fell in disappointment. "No. He doesn't need to. I checked his profile and he is married."

"Ouch," the word fell out of her mouth. She grimaced. She had never had a guy pay so much attention to her posts, no matter how she glowed under the sunshine or how she posed to make sure her assets were visible. There were appreciative comments here and there, but none that seemed to pay close attention to her. She'd had to go hunting for guys herself, liking all their photos, commenting on the not-so-funny videos some of them posted. Well, her hard work paid off. A smile decorated her face.

"So who were you chatting with?" Ama could read what was going on in her mind.

Her smile widened. "It's just this guy o. I chatted him up the day before yesterday on Twitter."

"Wait," Ama was aghast. "You chatted him up? By yourself?"

Ruby nodded, mentally adopting a defensive stance. "Of course. I just like him. His posts sound intelligent and he looks okay. I just decided to shoot my shot."

"Wow." She still looked perplexed. "I thought it was guys that were supposed to chat girls up."

Ruby couldn't prevent snarky laughter from leaving her lips. It's fine girls like you that can wait, people like us with average looks, we will just wait till thy kingdom come. "It depends. Girls can still ask guys out. It's no longer the way it was before."

Ama was everything Ruby wasn't. Pretty, intelligent with an awesome fashion sense that didn't interfere with her spiritual life, the charisma that she exuded that made her become the youngest department head, working in the PR department; her impeccable English, she didn't have to feign a foreign accent, that made her even more attractive. Despite being a staunch religious, she was still able to separate her spiritual life from her work life. She didn't go around carrying God on her head like many others She was one of the people Ruby secretly aspired to be like.

However, there was one stain on Ama's seemingly perfect being—she could be annoyingly close-minded, in a way that made anyone that got into an argument with her gnash their teeth in anger. It didn't help that she delivered her points intelligently with succulent English. Ruby had made it a point never to argue with her.

"I still feel it is necessary to wait for the guy. What if he rejects you or he says you are just looking to sleep with him for money? I hear many girls do that online now," Ama continued.

And this was where Ruby would end the conversation. "If he is not interested, I move on. By the way, the wig you wore last week where did you get it from? I like the quality."

Ama frowned at the sudden change of subject, but she was happy to introduce someone to her hair vendor. Maybe she would get a discount.

***

I just got home now. How about you? Don't tell me you're still stuck in traffic. A wink face emoji. Ruby struggled to take off her gown as she typed with one hand.

The reply came almost immediately. Don't talk about it. I'm definitely getting home by midnight. A sad face emoji

Aww, poor baby

Ruby took longer to take off her clothes, take her bath and settle into comfortable house clothes than she usually did. All the while, her attention was divided between her phone and the task at hand. She took a picture of the plate of jollof rice she had served out, using a filter to blotch out the blackened parts, a tell-tale sign that the food had been left longer than necessary on the cooker. She sent it to him immediately inviting him to join her.

She and Fred had been following each other on Twitter for almost six months. She'd begun actively engaging with his posts two months earlier when he had made a post about being single. He was a stockbroker and he had his stock broking firm. He claimed to have worked with some influential people, but she didn't care.

She was more interested in him because of his wit as reflected through his tweets, his physical appearance as displayed on his profile picture—a baldheaded man with thick, dark beards. She didn't need to look at his full picture to know that he was at least six-inch tall and had a layer of muscles beneath his shirt. What more, when she had struck up a conversation with him, he'd patiently explained what he had implied in his tweet and seemed genuinely attentive to listen to her point of view.

Slowly, the messages turned from neutral conversations to personal, more intimate conversations, and soon they were getting involved with each other's daily life. Most recently, they'd exchanged phone numbers. Ruby couldn't forget the feeling that had engulfed her when she first heard his voice over the phone. His voice was not deep. It was slightly gruff, but attractively so. He spoke deliberately slow, sounded exactly like his tweets. He took time to answer questions, chose his words. He didn't use extravagant words, but his sentences were simple, straight to the point. His accent was undeniably Nigerian, with the tilt of the Yoruba accent. She loved listening to him. She purposefully asked him questions that would have him talking for a while so that she would just listen to him.

Speaking of which, she quickly cleared her plate and washed down her dinner with a gulp of water. As she retired to her room, she dialed his number. It was going to be another long night.