BACHELOR’S DIARY: Of the shy man going on his first date

Dear Diary,

Nothing makes one happier than knowing that you are not alone and realising that other people go through similar experiences as you do.

One of my patients at the hospital came for her annual check-up. To ease a patient’s mind, I usually ask them to talk about something interesting to them. I’ve heard all kinds of things, from funny divorce stories that begin with, “Everything I say is covered by the doctor-patient privilege, right?” That’s usually when you know some hot tea is about to be dished out.

This particular patient decided to talk about a recent date.

“A mutual friend set us up,” she said. “She told me the guy was shy around people and that I might be the perfect person to ‘get him out of his shell’.”

When the woman picked the man up at his place, she began noticing red flags immediately. “He peeked through the gate, saw me and put a finger to his lips, you know, as if asking me to hush. He then scanned one side of the road, then the other before running and practically jumping into the car.”

“Why would he do that?” I asked.

“I asked the same thing. You know what he told me? ‘They’re everywhere, always watching.’ Who? I asked. ‘People in yellow coats,’ he said. ‘I think they’re aliens.’”

“Aliens?”

It only got weirder from there, my patient told me. Her date, a man called John, insisted on leaving their phones in the car because they’re always bugged, especially by his friends since they were always plotting against him.

“It’s because I can talk to God,” the man explained, scratching himself all over almost to the point of bleeding. “Goddammed bugs. They put them in the food, you know. You only think you’re eating rice but it has bugs it, white bugs that look just like rice. I can feel them crawling all over my skin.”

“And you continued with the date?” I asked her.

“What can I say? By then I was fully invested. I wanted to know what else was going on with our world that I didn’t know. Like, did you know that God used to work at Nakumatt?”

“He did?” I asked, smiling in spite of myself.

“Indeed, according to my date. That’s why the supermarkets had to close: to drive God out. And that’s the reason there’s so much more crime now. I was lucky, you know.”

“How so?” I said.

“My date was preparing for the return of the messiah, which is why his name was John.”

“Are you saying he claimed to be John the Baptist?”

“Of course not, doc. That John is in the bible. My date was John the Destroyer.”

“The who, now?”

“He apologised for scaring me with the grim title but he was entrusted with erasing the entire population of earth once the Messiah comes back, hence the title. But I was lucky because I was his friend. He would hide me from all the destruction.”

By then I couldn’t help myself. I was laughing like a fool.

“Did you see the date to the end?”

“Oh yes, I did. Once he thoroughly examined our food to make sure it wasn’t bugged, we ate, then we took several detours on the way home to avoid the men in yellow coats who were tailing us, though I couldn’t see any.”

“I can’t believe you stayed on a date with a nutcase,” I teased.

“He wasn’t a nutcase,” she said. “Turns out he had smoked weed for the first time so he would have the courage to go on the date.”