I was late. I had a dentist appointment and I couldn’t find my wallet with my money. You see, what frustrated me wasn’t that I had no idea where my wallet was, it was because I absolutely, positively hated being late. I found it, eventually, but by this time I was panicking so much that I was sweating.

Great.

I wanted to take some time to wipe my face and the palms of my hands but there was no time for that, the breeze outside would do that. When I left the house and started walking to the taxis, I walked quickly and with purpose.

Wallet? Check. Phone? Check. Tissues? Check. Hand cream? Check. Mirror? Check. Wipes? Check.

By the time I got to the taxi it was almost full. I made myself comfortable in the front seat next to the driver. Two seconds after sitting down, the person for the sit next to mine arrived. I paid no attention to him… he was just another passenger whose day started early.

My palms had finally dried but they were exactly that – dry. I took my hand cream out of my bag and just as I was preparing to moisturise my hands, the guy next to me spoke.

“May I please have some?” He asked.

I didn’t say anything. I just did as he asked. He was polite and I guess there was no harm in sharing. After he said thank you, he moisturised his hands. All I could do was sit and stare at them and said nothing – I wasn’t exactly the make-conversation-with-the-person-next-to-you type. If anything, I avoided taxi conversations by all means. How, you ask? Earphones.

Earphones are the best way to avoid talking to the person next to you in the taxi, especially if that person looks like they’ve been crossing their fingers, hoping you’d sit next to them.

This usually happened to me because of two reasons: a) I am thin enough to fit into small places and people of a slightly wider circumference always want to squeeze me in next to them. And b) two out of three times, the guy I sit next to wants to get a conversation started. Unfortunately for me, at that point in time the only thing on my mind was getting to the dentist on time.

“This smells very good.” He spoke….again.

Don’t reply, maybe he will get the picture.

“This smells very, very good.”

Please shut up.

“I’m obsessed with smells.”

Clearly he wasn’t going to stop so I turned around slowly to face him. Just when I thought he got the picture from the expression on my face, he spoke again.

“I feel like you’re judging me.”

I sighed, “I’m not.”

“Oh, but I feel like you are.” He continued

“I’m not.”

By now I had started giggling. This guy was working on my nerves but he was weird and I liked that. I give off this ‘don’t talk to me’ aura but with him it didn’t work. He was persistent. He was persistently annoying. He probably took the giggle the wrong way because he then introduced himself. The letters rolled off his tongue as if the name wasn’t an IsiXhosa name at all.

“I’m Lonwabo.” He reached out his hand to me

I took it and we shook hands, “Asanda.”

“Live around here?”

For the next 20 minutes or so the conversation revolved around the fact that he had never seen me before, my first year at university and what we would be getting up to on the weekend. I was listening to him, his accent demanded that of me. The way words rolled of his tongue and reached my ears was probably one of the reasons I kept him talking.

The other reason was the level of comfort. How was it that I had no idea who this guy was but liked him? He was funny, weird and so full of life. When he got off he asked for my number which was when I actually got a good look at him. He was dark-skinned with the most beautiful big brown eyes. I was sold.

“Is there any way that I can contact you?” he asked.

I looked at him intently and for the first time EVER, I gave a guy I had met in a taxi my number. I smiled as the taxi drove off and he didn’t let me forget him just yet because just as he got off, he sent me a message:

It was nice meeting you, Asanda.

***

Do you ever give out your number to people you’ve for the first time? Why? Why not?