There are lesbians and bisexuals all over the Campus that wanted to sleep with me also! Jesus! I exclaimed. Chai! Yoruba boy! She teased; well I like you sha! Your humility and your pure innocence appeals to me! Please! I said; please don’t like me! I pleaded. What is that nah? Don’t be a Jew please! She said. No! no! I want to remain a Jew! I replied. She laughed out loud and held my hands over the table. I was tactically pulling my hand from her grip when she gripped it tight and became serious. Yoruba man! She called. Bolaji! I replied. Sorry, Bolaji! Cool down! What is your problem? I have not even told you half of my story and you are scared already! Don’t you like me again? She asked. No! No! No! I don’t! I replied. You are dangerous! I said. She released her grip on my hand and recoiled, she sank into her chair and held her head I her hands, the next thing I realized was that she was sobbing. Now I was more confused because I was looking for an opportunity to leave her but for her spontaneous change of character, I could not fathom. What is the problem Chioma? Why are you crying? The more I asked, the louder she cried. In order not to create a scene in the Bar, I pulled her up and led her upstairs to one of the rooms I had access to the key. She followed me quietly. As I closed and locked the door behind us, she started to wail, and as she cried, she told me her story.