Lois in Love: Jacques Nel

Oh! Joyous rapture of my heart. You will never guess who found me on the dating sites. Jacques Nel. Jacques Nel the Rugby legend of our old high school. Jacques Nel. The hottest guy in our high school wants to go on a date with me! He called me “Beautiful”! I am so excited. Too bad the flu is not completely gone and that I’ve developed some blisters under my nose. I don’t care. I said – yes. We are meeting up this Wednesday. I’m so excited! I can cover up everything with concealer then everything will be all right.

It is a bit strange that he didn’t have a profile picture only some photo of the ocean. Maybe he thinks that looks are overrated? It was also strange that he didn’t recognize me? I mean he lived next door to my uncle, and we use to have numerous talents shows; me and my cousin Richard that always involved me singing a duet with Richard to The Shoop-Shoop Song. Jacques couldn’t have heard us or seen me in a costume. There were high walls around the garden pool area, and I was rather fat in high school. We had at least three subjects together right through school – how doesn’t he remember?

My friend, Yolandi Pavier has just reminded me that high school happened over twenty years ago. How can that be? I still remember it like yesterday. Yolandi says that a lot of people we thought we knew have changed. How can that be? Yolandi then continued to inform me that Alecia, Jacques’s high school sweetheart had married another woman, that most of our crowd was either living in Australia, Ireland or Botswana that some of our classmates were dead. I listened to her for three hours straight with disbelieve. Where in the world had I been? Did aliens kidnap my body and now after over twenty years bring me back? When I asked Yolandi how she knew all this, she said that she was on Facebook. Facebook strikes again.

I told her about meeting up with Jacques on Wednesday. I didn’t go into details. I lied to her in fact. I said that he sent me a friend request on Facebook. I really need to find a church. Yolandi got excited for me and approved immediately. She said that Jacques was a generous and lovely man. Jacques had helped a special needs mother to get a wheelchair in through Botswana. Apparently, Jacques is some sort of doctor or wealthy businessman. Yolandi wasn’t sure that information was blocked on Facebook.

So, Sunday I went shopping instead of looking for that church. I bought the most beautiful floral dress for myself and new underwear, just in case. I’ve put it all on account. My son wanted to know why I was buying things for myself when I never used to. As if it was some sort of criminal offense. I lied and said that I needed to. Technically, it wasn’t a lie I’ve not bought something for myself since 2009. I think I really did need it because for the first time in years I feel a bit special. It lasted a whole minute. My daughter was practicing her football shots in the garden when we came back. The ball ricocheted off the post straight into my nose. The blow caused me to stumble to the ground and scrap both my knees. I look like a defeated boxer with an interrogating son and a hooligan daughter. Nonna looked at my shopping bags with suspicion but gracefully said nothing, sipping wine.

Jacques has messaged me just now. He has sent me a photo. It was not his face. I am shocked. It was a photo of his thing? My husband has never sent me photos of his thing? Maybe this is how men tell girls that they like them now? Jacques asked me what I thought. I didn’t want to be rude and say that his thing looked like an episode of National Geographics. The feature on elephants. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings to say that penises don’t really move me anymore or excite me that much since I caught my son dancing naked in front of the mirror swinging his balls all around.

So, unfortunately, I lied by accident again and told him that he reminds me of torpedoes that hit sure and true. He must have really liked the remark because then he unwrapped a little bit more. Jacques then told me that he had become a successful psychologist, owned a clinic and that he was living in Durban now. The four-hour drive from the coast to our date would be worth it, if only I could send him a photo of my breasts. I said that I would think about it.

I thought about it until midnight when everyone was asleep. I kept thinking about Nonna’s words, “Keep with the times.” Then imagined how everything I possibly knew about love and relationships have changed. Then – I did it! I feel like a naughty schoolgirl. I couldn’t sleep.

Oh my gosh, its Tuesday morning Jacques says that he is five minutes away. I am not ready. My boobs are powerful. Jacques says that he needs a place to spend the night. What am I going to do? I will never flash my boobs ever again!

I can’t believe it. It has been the weirdest two days of my life. It was or has been the weirdest date in all my life.

Jacques arrived in a beaten up old white car. I was instantly confused because I thought he was a successful psychologist. What the hell was going on? When he stepped out of the car, I was disappointed once again. God had taken all his hair and his beautiful white teeth. They are stained yellow and broken beyond believe, how can this be?

Once, I gave Jacques something to drink. We put his bags in the guestroom. Jacques confessed to me that since high school he had been struggling with a drug addiction problem for some drug of sorts, that I can’t remember its name. He had relapsed on Monday and just needed to get away from everything. I listened and secretly regretted buying Nonna that one night stay at the Casino Hotel that she thought was complimentary from the Casino.

Jacques almost crashed the car when we went to fetch the children from school. He temporarily blacked out for a minute then was shaking all the time like an old man. The children weren’t happy either.

My son’s first question to Jacques was – he wanted to know if he “had to” call Jacques, “dad” now. Jacques tried to high five or fist pump my daughter. She bit Jaques on the arm.

Lord, forgive me but I was in no state to cook so I ordered pizza and drank a lot of wine. When Jacques went to go shower, I immediately got the children on the side. I told them that for that night bedtime was strictly eight o’clock and that they need to sleep in my bedroom. I’ve never been so scared in my life.

Yet. I couldn’t chase Jacques away. If I had a problem, like that I would be so grateful for one night’s help. I wouldn’t want to be chased away. The same goes for my children, if they ever had a problem like that, I would want someone to help them even if it is for one night only. I reasoned that I just needed to survive one night.

At bedtime Jacques whispered to me that I must come to him when the children had fallen asleep then French kissed me for until forever touching me everywhere. I almost considered it. But! I’m a mother first. So, we all went to bed at eight o’clock sharp in my locked bedroom. I didn’t close an eye that night as I lay in the dark clutching the kitchen knife under my pillow. Listening to the farting sounds coming from the guestroom.

Jacques woke up early in the morning. He said that he had to leave now, and it was the worse luck yet. There was another confession. This time Jacques confessed that he was immigrating to Australia. I told him that we would always be each other’s “almost”. I bid him farewell and thanked Australia in my heart for taking yet another South African. Jacques dedicated The Shoop Shoop Song to me…which means, he does remember, he did see me in my costume!

I related the whole story to my friend Yolandi Pavier minus The Shoop Shoop Song bit that is private and her conclusion is that you must kiss many frogs to find the prince…I pointed out to her that I am not Chinese.

My husband’s lawyers have sent the court order and divorce papers. My husband refuses to pay the children’s maintenance stating on that grounds that I left him. He must have forgotten to tell his lawyers about having had the locks changed so that we couldn’t get in the house?

Let’s see who will be victim number two…