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By JAMES KAHONGEH, @_nkurunzizah

I have had quite the luck to go on evening outs with several species of women, and analysed their behaviour. The results are astonishing if incredible.

The powderkeg
If this were a product, she would be labelled “extremely flammable”, and for a good reason.

She lays in wait of the slightest provocation, and if you are not wise enough, you might nurse your mojito, and heartache, alone long after she has left.

This is a goddess of double standards, and whenever a dreamboat passes by, she will follow him until he disappears. Glance twice in the direction of the female kind and she will soak your white pressed shirt with her glass of Chablis.

Folks, a woman who administers upon you a dressing down good and proper while drinking expensive wine paid for with your goddamned fortune is not a woman you should go out on a date with in the first place.

But sir, bite the hot nail. Keep biting. As a gentlemen, the worst you can do in the face of the all-besetting terrors of a woman’s fiery tongue is to lose your level head as well. But never agree to go on a date with her, or her ilk, in future. In fact, never answer her text messages. What should thaw must thaw.

The genius
There are geniuses, and there are women geniuses. No sexism intended. This one will talk about the war in Aleppo, argue about Wenger’s untenability at Arsenal and discuss science, and religion and philosophy with such startling aptitude that you will be confined to the edge of your seat.

Her understanding of arts is spectacular, her fascination with global politics stomach-churning. She has read Arthur Conan Doyle and Franz Kafka.

She understands the works of John Steinbeck like the palm of her own hand. There is no worthy title under the sun that missy has not devoured, including Esmeralda. Stunning erudition.

This is the kind of woman with whose name every man worth the vitality in his loins swears. Mind you, this variety is easy to amuse, makes no irrational demands, and will often foot the bill even. Foot the bill! How about that? Legendary, innit?

Dear men, unless you match her level of sophistication, this interaction will obviously make you look like a clueless rascal. Keep away, if you must, for the sake of your own little dignity.

The puerile lass
Dear men, beware. This town is so replete with these.

Your opposite number will harangue you for your choice of accessories, castigate you for your unromantic tuxedo. Even the uninspiring furnishings in the establishment is your darn fault. How so, stupefies even the gods.

But even more outlandish, she will even decry her own shoes and dress. Her own shoes, for chrissake. Ever heard of an uneasy heart that never finds a cosy chair?

This particular variety does not know the small fact that a date is an affair for two, and will do anything to jangle your nerves, drawing unwanted attention to your table. It is never easy when, with so much egg on face, you have to visit the washroom sixteen times, which is, well, impolite on a date.

All the while, she will be taking selfies, her eyes on her phone, and engaging her friends about a dumbass seated opposite her in a restaurant. Better watch The Handmaiden in the warmth of your house than be on a wintry night out with this type of woman.

The blatant bore
The mannerisms of this, folks, will stroke the cords of your hubris and make you feel manlier. She will laugh at your half-jokes, marvel at your half-wit and listen to your poppycock with a keen ear, regard you with dubious frowns and a grin to boot.

Except that this one is too dull to inspire your intellect. In fact, she will not initiate a convo, or fan one. Listen though she will, as though you were the funniest mortal the earth ever saw.

People go on dates to assess each other’s worth and intellect. Consciously or otherwise. Anything else is bullcrap. The only saving grace to her dismal intellect is her exquisiteness, for hers is of the proportions of Cleopatra’s.

The gung-ho feaster
For this, the object of the date is clear: the food and the drinks. Nothing more. She will talk less, and address herself to the most effortless task in the world: feast.

She will drown goblets and some more of the wine, gladly help you with your dessert, and make the most of your credit card. A repeat of this episode is a welcome idea, always.

Such are the women into whose paths I have run.