It starts with a flirty look across the bar restaurant. The beautiful woman with the gorgeous smile and big speaking eyes is seated by herself by the bar imbibing some Cocktail, probably a Manhattan or a Cosmopolitan. You walk up to her and realize it is neither of the two. She is taking one of those blue liquids they serve at the uptown bar. You strike up a conversation.
“Is that a Martini?” you ask.
“No, but you can keep guessing” she says with an inviting smile. Thirty minutes later, you are both laughing uninhibited, ordering for more of the blue stuff as well as your whiskey.
After two hours, both of you leave the bistro happier than you came in. In mutual agreement, you both drive to a nearby hotel and sate your carnal desires.
Four weeks later, you are in a management meeting when the secretary informs you that a Becky is here to see you.
“Becky?” you ask in confusion.
“She says it’s important,” the secretary rattles on, oblivious to the question in your tone.
You leave the meeting and walk into your office to see the woman with the gorgeous smile and big speaking eyes. You pause nervously and give her a tentative smile. She gives you an equally hesitant smile and breaks the news without preamble.
“I am pregnant,” she tells you. You gulp.
“Okay…are you sure it’s mine?” You ask. She gives you an insulted look, tears in her eyes. .
Months later, you are frustrated because you are caught in a relationship you do not want, with a woman you only knew for one night; a woman who you now think is unreasonable, a gold digger, and ugly.
In turn, this woman shows you the same contempt. She constantly reminds you that she bore you a son, a son you would not have had, had you remembered to use a condom.
Thus goes the argument over and over.
You will be driving home one evening, dreading the moment you have to face Becky, when you see a man peeing by the roadside, uncaring, singing a tune loudly as women run past him and fellow men pretend they do not see him.
You will wonder whether this man too, has a Baby Mama waiting for him to get home. Whether he too is asked for makeup products, for toys that cost so much, your legs tremble at the thought of buying them. You wonder whether his baby mama has a job, whether she spends days at the nail parlor, having massages that make your account spin. You wonder whether his Baby Mama spends evenings at the gym trying to ‘get back in shape after your son ruined her figure.’
You will wonder how he came to the point of peeing by the roadside. Did his Baby Mama plot to ruin his finances? Did she deny him child visitation? And what about his child? Did they get a good life? Did they see him as the father every child dreamed of? Or was his mind poisoned by the ramblings of his mother about the man who sired him?
It is with these thoughts that you will plaster a fake smile for the woman who bore your child, and pray for sanity.
Because you love your child, you will live through the moments the woman you once thought had a gorgeous smile and big speaking eyes puts you through.
You will pray that your child makes better choices in life and that he will see you as every child should see his father; worthy, able, a super man.