By: Rik Osborne (Posted on Quora, great read)
“If you sit home playing video games all day, you won't meet anyone.”
I was 49 years old, and had never been married. In fact, I had barely dated as an adult. I’d had one relationship, when I was 23–24 years old, that lasted 18 months, and another when I was 36 that lasted six months. And after that, I just never had much interest in trying to find romance and love. I took the position, “if it happens, it happens”.
So, living alone in an apartment, at 49 years old, I spent most of my time alone, playing World of Warcraft, when I wasn’t at work. Work and WoW, that was my life.
So on Christmas Eve, 2015, I was sitting alone in my apartment, playing WoW, and enjoying a bottle of nice single-malt scotch I’d bought as a Christmas present to myself. At some point in the evening, I wandered downstairs to my kitchen, and as I was entering the kitchen, I noticed for the first time a small, patched section on the wall. I was curious about it. You see, my apartment building was built some time before World War 2. I had already figured out that, when the building was new, it was heated by some kind of furnace in the basement, with all of the apartments sharing the heat. I figured that this small, square, patched-over spot must have originally been some kind of vent that allowed the air to move between apartments. My curiosity prompted me to knock on it.
Somebody knocked back.
So I knocked again, and heard more knocks in return. Then I heard a woman’s voice through the wall yelling, “Hey, come over here!”
I was … a bit surprised. But I shrugged and went over there.
I met my neighbor for the first time. We spent the rest of Christmas Eve together. Then we spent Christmas together. And the next day. And the next, and the next. She had a big TV, but no cable, so she could only use it to watch DVDs. I set her TV up with my WiFi password so that she could use my Netflix account. I spent most evenings in her apartment, watching shows on Netflix with her.
In March 2016, she moved into my apartment, and toward the end of April, we got married.
I was playing video games instead of looking for love, but love found me :)
JollofNerds: Beautiful story and we thought we would share it with you. At JollofNerds we cerebrate all love stories and we wish all our readers the best in their love life and we pray that you find that person who makes you happy.
"The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to" - Carl Sandburg, and it was at it's fullest, the beautiful rays of the moonlight obediently glittering on the city of Serekunda leaving in its wake fading shadows of the night so beautiful it would a photographer's dream. The noisy city of my birth was revivified, rejuvenating and sooty, so dusty not even the dark could cover the arenaceous it leaves behind. "Barkeh serign touba" whispered a man walking opposite my friends and I, his "lady friend" cachinnated with glee as they fade into the night.
Everyone seem ecstatic and chirpy like they have no worries in live. Cars honking, drivers cursing and yelling without regards to the night as they compete with pedestrians for right to the road. Almost every commotion was an opportunity for me and my unruly friends to crack a joke, loud and noisy as we defy the dark and tear into the twilight.
Her aquamarine eyes shows a willingness to be vulnerable and I can tell this girl was going to steal my virginity
Suddenly a voice emerge, tittering behind, phone in one hand a purse on the other. "What kind of lassie is that?" My friend asked “She is the most beautiful THING I have ever seen” said another. My friends were fond of eulogizing girls, almost every girl without regards to looks, “this time though they got it right” I remembered thinking. Lost for words and frozen in my steps, for a full minutes I wasn’t aware of my vicinity, I couldn’t tell what was going through my head, my mind, or my heart.
"Wow" I whispered. Usually I would be the one to make the first move but not this time. I wasn’t brave enough to orate a word. Something was happening to me, I was feeling a way I never felt before. It was the awakening of something inside of me I never knew existed.
It took me another minute to find the guts to take a second peek, this time our eyes met and she smiled, to my friends this was an invitation to talk to her. To be honest, I don’t even think she was smiling at me but at that particular moment everything was a sign to my friends. This chick was hot, I mean the extreme form of it. A first class figure 8 with a Bubbling Onion Badunkadonk(B**ty), she was the kinna girl that can easily cause a traffic nightmare. If god's intention for creating women was to hijack a man's head, he just succeeded with me.
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Reluctant at first but knew if I didn't say "Hi" I was never gonna forgive myself, I surely wasn't gonna let her disappear without letting her know how I felt. "Hell No," I muttered. I approach her cautiously, no game-plans, didn't know what the first words were gonna be. Is she going to scream at me, maybe slap the shit-out-of-me? One negative thought after another consumed my thought-process. If I can get close enough to smell her, I'll take a slap she was damn worth it. For a minute I was pumped.
There I was face-to-face with the damsel I would later know as Aisha, there was no turning back, too late. It was hard not to appear inappropriate, do I take one more quick peek at her mesmerizing thighs and well-rounded titties? Gosh why can't I makeup my mind, "Focus dude" I remind myself, "don't blown this shit up". “Execute me” I said. Goddamn, she is a goddess. I was face-to-face with the most beautiful girl I have ever laid my eyes on. “Hi” she responded in a smooth and sultry voice, a voice I'll equate to Rihanna's, accompanied by a wicked smile that can melt a frozen heart.
As I prepare to say another word, a car beamed its full lights on Aisha. I wanted to paint her in my heart right then and there.
“I saw the car’s light glittering on you so beautifully I thought the light itself was your lover” I uttered with a half smile. I was an amateur hardly seventeen and so was she. She looked at me for a good 10 seconds, still maintaining her smile without saying a thing. Do I have a stain on my shirt I wasn’t aware of, did she think am crazy? I couldn’t stop wondering why she hadn’t said anything yet.
“Are you a poet?” she muttered in the utmost compression of susurration. “No, but I’ll be your poet if you want” I said, chuckling. For once I was calm, I couldn’t wait for this moment. Everything about Aisha was seducing, her voice, her lips, her boobs, her hips, even the way she walk was celebrity perfect. “I have never met a guys this expressive my whole life, I love your confidence” she said. I blushed, we looked into each other's eyes and we could tell this was the beginning of something MAGICAL. Her aquamarine eyes shows a willingness to be vulnerable and I can tell this girl was going to steal my virginity and I will give it up willingly with a damn smile on my face :)
END OF PART ONE….
Fashion Nerds all over the world were grinding and like wtf...
Barrow and Entourage learn first hand not even money can buy you Sophistication. The president floundered biggggly on his dressing choices and gesture in the city of fashion Paris. It was a disaster, let's just keep it real. It would have been funny if it wasn't that bad.
Image matters, personal presentation matters especially in the world of Business and Diplomacy. Guess what? Barrow and delegation represent us, your image is our image unfortunately, so we're invested in how you present yourself.
But wait, it wasn't only his clothing choices. Barrows posture and gesture left a lot to be desired, he signals serious lack of confidence and professionalism.
But wait again, Barrow wasn't the only culprit, Maimuna Fatty (Mai Fatty) and my favorite old-man Papa Lawyer Darboe aka Mr. Teeny-Weeny miss the mark bigggly as well. Let's check some of the photos, I did my fair share of laughing last night.
Don't do that Mr. President, just wave your hand. Simple!
Maimuna Fatty was trying to fake it but miss bigggly. Our favorite grandpa Papa Lawyer Darboe aka Mr. Teeny-Weeny was off-mark huuugly as well lol... Stood like a Stick-Man, Oversize Suit, Over Size Pants, Imbalance Inner-Shirt. Where is madam Darboe?
Well some of you will be screaming "It's our culture" but you know what, just put on a Suit in a Diplomatic mission. It's a universal professional dress code.
Mr. President was off-mark bigly.
The dress is way too long and uncomfortable to walk.
Again, lift your head Mr. President, oh god, how long do I have to tell you.
Okay, the Fashion-Nerds at JollofNerds.com would like to offer Mr. President a complete wardrobe makeover, please reach out. In the main time, we'll advice the president to hire a Fashion Coach/Protocol Officer. You're the president sir, you have the state apparatus at your disposal.
Again, stop leaning-back or spreading-your-hands or tilting-your-head-to-the-side, it's kinna Unprofessional and Churlish!
Mr. Teeny-Weeny won't just let it go, wanna be president by-force smh.. Be patient Papa, 2020 is around the corner. You'll rule The Gambia for the next 20 years, we don't have TERM-LIMIT remember.
But wait!! Barrow and his gang are NOT the only culprits. UDP just lack "the thing", you know what I mean "The Swag". No matter how they fake it, it's just is there, you can't hide it. lol... But wait, what do you expect from Badibu, Kiang and Jarra exports. Xoxoxo..... Lmao!!
Don't kill yourself. It's just a joke. Calm down!!
Btw... What's up with the red-hair and the brown patterns Fatoumata? Are you a johnny-just-come? You definitely ain't from T-Town. Naa.. My ex is from T-Town, their game is spot-on!
Before we end let's give Mr. President and his gang of Up-Country boys some tips. We can't allow them to humiliate us again like they did at the city of fashion (Paris), can you even imagine that. Am pissed all over again. Lmao!!
Anyways here we go:
- Please Hire A Fashion Coach. You can give all the Ministerial Positions to the Up-Country boys but when it comes to fashion let the Serekunda and Banjul kids handle that shit, please. I see lot of young, talented Gambian designers on Facebook. If you can't find one contact us at Jollofnerds.com we'll hook you up.
- Keep your dressing simple as much as possible. Have you heard "beauty lies in simplicity?" it's true.
- Keep it professional, wear a Suit. Btw.. suit isn't just a western dress code, it's the universal professional dress code and there is a good reason for that. Look at your photos, you'll see why.
- Mr. President, please quit tilting your head to the side/down or spreading your hands like a king or leaning back like you're in a casual setting. Image matters.
- Finally, tell Maimuna Fatty to quit sitting next to you all the times just to get some camera attention. Mr. Busybody!
- Oh wait! Stop locking your fingers in professional settings. Stop it! Your gestures need some serious work.
Wait! Wait!
Don't you just love the First-Lady super, super hot. She got "the thing" you know what I mean, right?
Chum-y! We all love the Peuls, don't we?
Anyways, I'll take this first-lady any day than the Moroccan witch.
Happy weekend friends. Time to hit the Miami night life. Adios!!
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