Mollie's Irony

I may act alright, but deep-down Mollie’s words grate my mind in quite an unsatisfactory manner. I knew that she was predisposed to be strongly opinionated. But I also know, like anyone that knows, that extremely opinionated people cannot take strong opinions, nor even facts that prove that their opinions are nothing but hot air. When you are stupidly in love, you can ignore strong opinions because that would mean getting some action when the lights are turned off, or getting that unwelcoming cold shoulder. 

Mollie is the sort of person who will be quiet and then randomly says things. Often, what she says has no preamble. She can begin a story in the middle and fill it up with facts later. I remember that day we were just chilling, her absentmindedly making her nails while I read a paragraph or two of whatever story caught my attention. Mollie said, in a way a prophet might say, that ‘githeri, omena, and matumbo’ are symptoms of poverty. I turned her words in my head and concluded that they could only be words that come from someone named after the first cloned sheep. 

It did not bother me then. Mollie’s presence intoxicated me. Or, to put it more precisely, made me a remarkable fool. Being in love can make a grown man look like a fool because love was designed to look that way. Picture that tough man in your life and chances are that he looks and acts a fool in the presence of a female with whom he has no qualms about losing his inhibitions. It is one of the requirements of loving. 

Now that I am no longer stupid, I can turn Mollie’s words in my head and try to analyse them like a specimen on a scientist’s table. For a start, Mollie claims that she is a sapiosexual. I did not know what that meant at first but I got enlightened when consulted google. You can’t really think highly of a person who thinks so lowly of other people’s favorite foods. Because she was my favorite person, I nodded to her words and sought no further explanation as that would have made me a participant in her opinions. After getting past the talking stage and then into the intimate zone, you learn to stop being a participant in certain things. 

As I sit now, I wonder about the kind of research Mollie used to conclude that certain foods were a symbol of poverty. For instance, what was her hypothesis? What problem was she even researching? And she had the audacity to claim that she is a sapiosexual. Now that we are not together anymore, I can also say that pizza and fried chicken are symbols of ill health.