Ibilola meets Oladehinde
It started out innocently enough. Ibilola had been invited to a networking event for super negroes in silicon valley. She went. She met him and so it started. His name was Oladehinde Animashawun, a real life French Nigerian super-negro with all the trimmings: TED fellow, MacArthur Genius, World Economic Forum man of the year, advisor to several Presidents and so on.
When they met, she didn’t know any of this, she met a man who had a regular Yoruba face and a kind aura. That day, Ibilola was on fire, she spent half the time at the event giggling with her friend. By the time she met Dehinde, she was completely relaxed and in her element.
He had a nice calm presence, but didn’t stand out to her as someone she could be attracted to. He was just there, neither hot nor not, just there. As the day wore on, she realized they were in the same field, which was rather unique since she was a computer scientist with a doctorate, it wasn’t that often she met Nigerian men who were genuinely intrigued about the science. Of course she met several Nigerian software engineers, but many of them weren’t exceptional. They were perfunctory. They studied computer science because it was “hot” and held the promise of great riches if they played their cards right. But to meet someone who was genuinely interested in the science and its application to new areas, now that was unique.
They got on like a house on fire once they discovered they were interested in the same intellectual pursuits and held the same “how are we going to make Nigeria better” outlook. As the day wore on, he invited her and her girl to his office. Hmm, since they had some time, they went. The walk there was the first time she consciously decided to even check the guy out. She scanned him from head to toe. It was slightly warm in the city, so he took off his blazer as he walked. Ibilola, the sartorial ho that she was immediately realized that the blue blazer he wore was from Burberry, a very understated Burberry piece without that offensive nova check oozing out of the garment as lately the brand was want to do because it was pandering to the nouveau riche from Asia who wanted the whole world to know they finally have some money and they too, yes they too, can now worship at the altar of mass consumption. His blue blazer was just that, a blue wool blazer with a navy blue quilted removable bib. She immediately put a thumbs up in his profile.
Her eyes wandered further down, no wedding ring, check. Hmm a piguet royal oak in steel with black rubber strap. Yes! A man that appreciates a good timepiece, more checks on his profile. Her eyes continued her scan of him, a nice solid leather belt, the next item her eyes settled on was his briefcase, Bally. Another understated choice. She realized she was creating a profile of him. He was a man who appreciated utilitarian luxury. He was certainly refined. He was worldly but wore it with ease. Her senses weren’t assaulted with some god-awful-cologne, another check. He smelt very subtle. She couldn’t quite place the smell, but it was something that enhanced him and she was happy about that. Eventually she scanned his groin, she couldn’t make a mental image of what he was packing, oh well. She continued her gaze until she rested on the shoes, ah, yes, the shoes. They were black suede loafers that looked brand new, or appeared to hold their shape very well. She couldn’t see any bumps where the toes where, the shoes appeared clean. Another check.
The craziest part of all this was that Ibilola was engaged in an animated conversation with Dehinde and her friend while she was busy computing a favorability score for him. Eventually they got to his office on Bush street. She met some of his team members, they spoke some shop, the coffee she was given was a joke, but the conversation far made up for the insipid brown water that was placed in front of her.
She noticed that he seemed bewitched by her. That wasn’t unusual for her, after all many men respond to her that way. She actually hated the shit. Why are they so stunned that a woman could give off sex appeal and be incredibly brilliant at the same time? What the fuck is wrong with these men? Do you think women are truly dumb? Even the dumb, basic bitches aren’t as dumb as they appear, they just present dumb because it makes life easier for men. But Ibilola wasn’t here for that. She gave absolutely zero fucks, and anybody that didn’t like it could go suck several dicks.
Eventually Ibilola and her friend got up and it was time to leave. When they were walking back to their cars, her friend said “did you notice how he was looking at you?” Ibilola smiled and thought nothing more of it. She just wanted to get to her car, and go home.
A few days later, he reached out to her seeking her advice on his startup. She went to his office to have lunch so they could talk about it. The first thing she noticed was that he wanted to have lunch at a restaurant a few blocks from the office. Hmm, she wasn’t used to this. Most startup guys she knew worked like dogs and didn’t waste time on frivolities like having lunch at a sit down restaurant. Its usually takeout chowed down fast while they talked business. This guy wanted to walk outside, go to a white table cloth restaurant for lunch? She wrote it off as an european indulgence.
The lunch was going good, they ordered fried chicken and mashed potatoes while seated at the chef’s table. The lunch felt like 20 questions. He wanted to know everything about her. What kind of business lunch was this? Why does this guy want to know all these? She took note of it but wasn’t too concern, after all she was in SOMA. She had had stranger lunches where her clients spent hours just talking about themselves, feeling her out, trying to read her before they decided she was worth their time, so she wasn’t too concerned.
However, this one hour lunch dragged on to two hours and then more, that was when she realized this was no longer an ordinary business lunch. This was something different. She was being interrogated for something and she wasn’t quite sure what. Something else struck her, he wanted to help her. He wanted to see her succeed. She could read his face and see a tenderness and concern about her, even though they barely knew each other. He spoke to her with a level of ease that shocked him. He got her to share about herself, she found herself telling him that she was divorced. He wanted to know how divorces went in America. Did the woman always get the property? Can the man have a voice? Could a man win custody and so on. She was a bit taken by this. Who asks these kinds of questions at a lunch meeting?
She wrote off these quirks on the guise of this is an european learning how America works from a source that allowed them to be vulnerable. Eventually the lunch ended and she headed back to the East Bay. She didn’t quite know what to make of the lunch. When she got home, she called her friend and told her that they had gone to lunch. Her friend cautioned her not to read anything into it, that the guy might be a player, as he had also invited her out to dinner that same week.
Ibilola was furious! What the fuck? Was he trying to date the two friends at the same time and didn’t think they would find out? Who does that? What kind of goat is this idiot? Tsheeew. And on top of all that nonsense, they found out that he was married. Married! Ehhn, so he thinks he will get away with this behavior, okay, we will see who the fool is.
As she was stewing in her irritation, the idiot sent her an email:
Oladehinde Ani Fri, Oct 25, 2013 at 5:04 PM
To: Ibilola Fernandez
Hi Ibilola — trust you are doing well. Wanted to invite you to hangout this weekend. What’s your schedule like later today, tomorrow dinner or sunday lunch times?
Le 25 oct. 2013 à 17:41, Ibilola Fernandez a écrit :
Hey Dee, tomorrow dinner sounds great. My preference would be an early dinner.
Sent from a small device
Oladehinde Ani Fri, Oct 25, 2013 at 7:55 PM
To: Ibilola Fernandez
Sounds like a deal. Let’s sync tomorrow to figure out where…
So the olodo wants to “hangout” this weekend abi? I will show him. She had every intention to go “hangout” with him and skewer his ass.