Dear Diary,

I have been on some bad dates. Hell, I have been on so many of them that I think by now I’ve earned the title of 'Crappy Date Champion'. Believe it or not, I do not go out seeking a bad time, crap just follows me like an unwanted shadow.

Being a doctor, I would like to think of myself as a pretty smart person. Problem is, I can diagnose Parkinson’s disease just by looking at a patient, but for the life of me, I cannot do the same and tell if I will end up regretting a date.

Take today, for instance. I ended up in the emergency room not as a doctor but as a patient. And my doctor attempted to diagnose my condition on sight.

“Let me guess,” he said, inspecting my swollen face and bruised ribs. “You just couldn’t give up your wallet or your phone, huh?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll tell you what I tell all my patients. It’s not worth it. None of it is. I don’t care if you have a phone that costs more than a used car, it makes no sense getting beaten half to death for it.”

“Oh, you think robbers did this to me?”

He shrugged. “It’s not a traffic accident, that I’m certain of. How’s your temper, Mr Ojiambo?”

“My temper?”

“Someone, and I mean another human being or human beings, did this to you. A bar brawl, perhaps? That would make sense seeing as you are here on a Sunday morning. I was once young too, you know. I remember one day me and some buddies were drinking at a bar. A guy came over to our table, looked straight at me and said, ‘What’s your problem, pal?’ I said, ‘Nothing, why?’ He said he thought I was looking at him funny. That was enough reason to start a commotion that got us all kicked out of the bar. See this scar on my ear? Almost lost the entire lobe that day.”

I laughed. “Wow, nice story, but mine’s different.”

“How?”

“Went on a date last night. The girl did this to me.”

The doctor takes a step back and examines me again. “Are you serious? Who was your date, Conjestina? Man, whoever she was, she should turn pro if she isn’t already. She gave you quite the walloping.”

“Nah.” I laughed it off, which got my ribs hurting. “Ouch! Anyway, I’ve gotten my share of walloping from girls. A slap here, a scratch there…It never gets this bad. It wasn’t the girl that did it.”

“Who is it then, Tom, her boyfriend? Her husband? Are you going to tell me or will I spend the entire morning guessing?”

“Okay, I’ll tell you. The date went peachy. Dinner at a nice restaurant and drinks at the bar. We had a really good time, you know? No red flags or anything.

“Towards the end of the evening, you know what she tells me? She says, ‘If you end up being the one, I’m going to rock your world tonight.’ I say, ‘How will you decide if I’m the one?’ She smiles, plants a kiss on my cheek and says, ‘You’ll see'.”

“You’ll see?”

“Can I finish my story, doc? So, she asks me to drop her at her place so she can pick up a change of clothes. Next thing I know, we are being attacked by these guys and I’m playing hero.”

“Thieves. I knew it.”

“Nope. Turns out it was her brothers and nephews. She’d arranged for them to beat me up so she can see if I’d protect her. If I’d be her knight in shining armour. Can you believe that?”