FriendZone

There is nothing as beautiful as seeing the crush of your life, someone you love so much, crying into your arms… because her boyfriend just broke up with her. Trust me, it is the best feeling ever. If you're listening to this right now as a young man and you've experienced your crush crying to you about her breakup, you know that feeling, that wild mix of emotions. One part of you is genuinely sad and concerned… but the other part? Oh, the other part is rejoicing like heaven just answered a ten-year-old prayer. God has finally done it for you. God has finally crushed the useless relationship of your long-time crush. The demon has been cast out. The Pharaoh has drowned in the Red Sea. Her boyfriend, the one standing between you and destiny, is gone.

I remember the time my neighbour, Silva, came to my house to cry about her breakup. This girl wore bum shorts and one oversized shirt, no bra, and came to my house crying about her stupid ex that broke up with her that morning. I hated that guy. The guy was just annoying, and ugly, with his big forehead. And not like passive dislike o, I deeply hated him for three solid reasons. I hated him for three solid reasons. One, his voice was too loud. If that guy tells you a secret, just know that everybody has heard it, including the neighbours two streets away. It was like he swallowed Bluetooth speakers… or his mother gave birth to him inside a nightclub. And the worst part? Whenever he was arguing with Silva, he'd say, "Baby, don't let me raise my voice. You know I don't like to shout." Like bro, this is you being calm?! Only God knows the amount of ear drops Silva used in that relationship.

Two, his pride was higher than Glo network. He always had to announce that he shops directly from the UK, his watch is made of "real gold," and he pays 20k to cut his hair every two weeks. Like… bro. Who asked you? Yes, I cut my hair with 2k so! Am I not finer than you? One day, he even came to my house and said, "Edgar this your Nike Air Max is fake. I bought the original from the Nike store in Manchester. This one is not Nike, it's Nike. Okay? Since you're their brand ambassador, why don't you buy me the original? Nonsense.

Three, anytime he came around to visit Silva, this guy would start playing loud, annoying rap music. If it's not Lil Wayne, it's Lil Durk. If not Durk, it's Lil Tjay. The guy only listens to artists with "Lil" in their names, because he too has little brain. Very useless guy.

So you can imagine how I felt when Silva told me that Ambrose broke up with her. I was super excited on the inside.

She said: "Edgar… my world has collapsed. Ambrose has broken up with me. I don't know what to do with my life. What was my offence??"

She held me close. Her tears were on my shirt. Her pain was pouring into my chest. Mucus. Red eyes. Her temperature was rising. And in my head, do you know what I was thinking? Her breasts are actually very big.

Wait first! I know I shouldn't have been thinking about that. I know! But remember, she was hugging me tight. And she wasn't wearing a bra. I could feel everything, the tears, the sweat, her heartbeat… and her big breasts.

Above all, I was excited because, long ago, Silva had told me that she liked me, but couldn't date me, because she already had feelings for Ambrose… two days before she realised she had feelings for me.

Apparently, I didn't talk on time.

She said: "Edgar, I really like you. But I recently committed to someone else. If only you had spoken before I met him, I would've said yes to you. You're the perfect guy for me… but it's too late. Sorry Ehn"

Okay! Now that he was out of the picture, I started thinking: Maybe this is it. Maybe the time is finally right. So what did I do? I held her close. I ran my fingers through her hair. I was telling her the sweetest things to make her smile. I said: "Silva, you deserve so much better. That guy never saw your worth. But I do. You're strong, you're beautiful… and honestly, any guy would be lucky to have you."

She looked up at me… eyes full of tears… her lips trembling. And I thought, This is it. This is how Netflix love stories start. Maybe I should kiss her. Maybe she'll kiss me. Maybe she'll finally say, "Edgar… you're the only one I can trust."

Instead, I continued: "Silva, you're beautiful. You're amazing. And you deserve better. He's not worth the stress… or the tears. It's his loss, not yours. You deserve someone that will be there for you, when you cry, when you laugh, or when you just need someone to talk to."

I said a lot. I was really pouring my heart out. But Silva didn't say a single word, she just kept crying. Then I thought of a joke.

I said: "Well… at least now you can finally rest from all those Lil Wayne songs you were hearing by force."

And guys… she smiled. She actually smiled. At that point, I should have just kept quiet. I should have added more jokes. I should have told her more amazing things about herself. I should have kept the moment with her.

But no.

What did my stupid head do? I looked her in the eyes. I moved my face close to hers. And I said, with all the confidence in my useless romantic soul: "If you ever need a shoulder to cry on… mine are available."

She looked at me. She smiled. And then she said the words that nearly made me collapse on the floor.

"Thank you so much, Edgar… you're the big brother I never had."

Big. Brother.

BIG BROTHER.

I wanted to disappear. I wanted to press pause on life. I wanted the ground to open and swallow me, then spit me out beside Ambrose so we could fight. Because how did I go from "maybe she'll kiss me"…to becoming "the big brother I never had"??

God, why?

Big brother? I was confused. Is it Big Brother like Big Brother Naija… or what? Did this girl just call me her big bro? Even though I heard her say it, a part of me refused to accept it. I was in denial. So… I did something pretty dumb. I went for a kiss.

And just when my lips were about to touch hers…She jumped off me like the Holy Ghost slapped her and shouted: "Jesus Christ… Edgar, what are you doing?! We can't be doing that. My breakup isn't even 24 hours old, and besides…you're my brother. This isn't right."

After hearing that?

My back started to pain me. My chest folded. Silva didn't just friendzone me, she adopted me into her family by force. She couldn't even sit on my legs anymore. She stood up and sat on another chair, one far away. I stared at her for five full minutes. One part of my brain was trying to gather English to ask her: "But… didn't you say I was the perfect guy for you?" And the other part of my brain? It couldn't stop my eyes from looking at her big breasts.

Okay! If you're listening to this podcast for the very first time, you are very welcome to the second-best podcast in Nigeria. Why second best? Because the best podcast hasn't been made yet. This is Why Am I Still Single?

My name is Edgar Eriakha, and every Friday… okay, not every Friday, but most Fridays, I tell real stories about how I've fumbled love, misread signals, and somehow, somehow, I still haven't given up. Because honestly, if someone like Portable can marry not one, but two women… Then I feel like I too have what it takes to become husband material. At least, half a yard. So why am I still single? Well, this week, it's because the lady I liked and loved saw me more as a brother than a lover. Now, let me clear something up, this lady is different from the one you heard about in the intro. Silva? She was Level One. This new lady? She's Level Ten, final boss friendzone. As for Silva, can you believe she later went back to that same guy, Ambrose? I hear he eventually turned her into his punching bag, but she's too scared to talk about it. Anyways, what's my own? Every man to his journey. I'm still facing my heartbreak in HD. Now, before I tell you what Florence did to me… Let's talk about friend zones, or zones in general.

Now, if youre expecting me to define what friendzone means or zones in general, then you have come to the wrong podcast. That is why you have Google or ChatGPT. Or call your English teacher, dont disturb me. There are five types of zones. Let me break them down as quickly as possible. The moment a lady sees you, even before you say hi, she has already profiled you into one of these zones. The five zones include: Potential Zone, Maga Zone, Ozone Layer, Worship Zone, and finally, the Friend Zone.

Now listen, the Potential Zone is the only good zone on this list. This is where hope lives. You're not her man yet, but she sees the possibility. She's watching you, observing you…"How does he talk?", "Is he spiritual?", "Is he presentable?", "Does he have sense?", Does he listen to Portable?, "Is he a Marlian?", "A Yoruba demon or an Edo Wizard", "Can I post his face on my birthday without people laughing at me in the comments?"

Trust me, bro. The questions? It's like JAMB exam, 400 questions, no theory, no calculator. One wrong move, boom, you're out. One right move? She might just give you a chance.. And if you somehow survive and make it out of the Potential Zone to become the main guy... That only means one thing, you passed the most difficult exam in the world.

Let's talk about Maga Zone. If you ever find yourself in this zone, you're not a man… you're a project. Your assignment is simple: fund her lifestyle... without asking stupid questions.. She'll tell you, "You're such a good person," But let's be honest, you've never hugged her. You've never kissed her. The best you've gotten are long "I appreciate you" messages with three or four kisses from a distance, like "Muah" She only appreciates you the day you send money. And when you don't, she reminds you how selfish and stingy you are, like you're hoarding national cake. You've just been sending her airtime, data, and "urgent 2k" like your bank app is romantic. She has saved your name with Tunde Opay, or Chibuzor 2k or even WILLIAM cash. If this is you, right there as you are listening, go down on your knees and repeat after me, lord Jesus, I am a mumu, I need you in my life, help me fight this battle. My foolishness needs to be understudied. God help me!

Okay! Let's move to the next category. The Ozone Layers. I am praying for someone listening. May you never be found in the Ozone layer. This is where confusion lives. You cannot predict whether she likes you or not because she doesn't know herself. You people are hot today, cold tomorrow. She'll flirt with you on Tuesday and then ghost you on Thursday. You'll catch feelings in the morning, and she'll catch a flight at night. She says she wants you, but cannot date you and will not let another person date you! Youre living in bondage, you dont know. Every conversation ends with: "Aww, you're so sweet. I just don't know what I want right now." Excuse me, ma, what you want is therapy. If youre in this zone, I suggest you start a 21-day dry fasting. Let God take control. This one is not ordinary.

Next is the Worship Zone. This one is dangerous…Because it feels deep… it feels meaningful…But you're basically her emotional support goat.. You're the guy she comes to when she needs prayers, advice, or healing. You're her emotional support goat. She only calls you when she needs prayers, advice, or healing. You know her mother's blood pressure, her boss's mood swings, the name of her cat, and what time her gas finishes, but you don't know what her lips taste like. You are not even in the queue, bro. She doesn't know your love language. She doesn't even care. She just knows you're always available, and that's exactly where she plans to keep you. She ends every conversation with "Thank you very much, this is why I value you a lot". If this is you, then I feel deep sorrow for your generation. You need to go and wash your head inside river, seven times. And then finally…The one that pains me pass… The Friend Zone! I hate this zone. I hate when ladies put me in their family or friendship zone. This zone is the final burial ground of romantic ambition. Once you enter, there is no coming out. Once you enter here, just know it's over. She'll say things like: "I can talk to you about anything." "You're such a great guy… any girl would be lucky to have you!" "You're like a safe space for me." Safe space??? I didn't come here to be a pillow! You buy gifts, she says, "Aww, bestie!" You call at night, she says, "Lemme gist you about this guy I like." Sometimes she'll even cry to you about the same man you're praying against. That's not friendship. That's emotional punishment. And no matter how hard you try, you never graduate. You see now? Five zones. And somehow, most of us are not even in the good one. You're out here buying shawarma, doing midnight prayers, sharing data, liking her selfies, hyping her business, and you don't even know your zone. But guess what? She does. She figured it out from the first hello. And now… You're laughing. I'm here… pouring out my trauma, and you? You're laughing. I'm talking to you, and you're laughing. You think this is a joke? Instead of thinking about where you stand in her life… what zone you're probably trapped in…You're here, laughing at the struggles and pain of a young Nigerian man trying to find love in this economy.

Anyways. Let's now talk about Florence. Because, what she did? It humbled me in a way even poverty couldn't. So one morning like that, I went to the supermarket around my area to get some groceries. I had made a list and promised myself, "No splurging. Only what I need". So I left my house, got into my car and drove straight to the supermarket. When I got to the supermarket, I saw this young lady. She was wearing this tight fitness outfit, so I assumed she was coming from the gym. She looked really nice, but I didn't stare for too long. I was focused on my mission: buy what you need, and leave. As I was picking my items one after the other. I noticed she was having issues. Apparently, she forgot her purse in her bag and forgot her bag at the gym. Now she was going to make a transfer, but she couldn't because the supermarket only accepted cash or cards. It was written boldly at the entrance. So the fitness lady had two options. It was either she leave the supermarket and go all the way back to the gym to get her bag, or… find a kind customer who could let her transfer the money to them, and they would help her pay. The fitness lady chose the second option. She started asking customers at the supermarket if they could assist her. She asked five people and they all refused. I wasn't surprised. Nigerians don't play with bank transfers. We've been scammed too many times. We're now trauma survivors in our own country. Everyone probably thought: "This one is a fraud. I no dey do!" But here's what caught my attention. I watched from a distance and noticed that the fitness lady was making a big mistake in getting someone. The mistake was that she kept asking women and avoided the men. Why? I dont know. Maybe she thought the women would be safer to approach. Or maybe she just didn't want wahala.

But as I stood there with my pack of Golden Morn and tissue paper…I realised…This girl was about to learn something very important about Nigeria…And so was I. Anyways… After spending minutes begging people with no response, I decided to be a gentleman. To the beautiful fitness lady. I walked up to her and said, "Hey… I can help you."

You need to see the excitement on her face. She lit up like PHCN just brought light to the whole street. She was so happy. It looked like she wanted to cry. She held her hands together under her chin like she was in a Nollywood romance and said, "Thank you so much, Sir. You are a lifesaver" Sir?? I quickly corrected her, "Please dont call me Sir, I am way too young to be feeling this old. Just call me Edgar. My name is Edgar." She laughed. "Ouu! Okay, I like that name. It's giving… Game of Thrones! Well, thank you, Edgar." I smiled. "Youre welcome, how much do you need?" "Everything is 57k. Just call out your account number and I will transfer it to you right away!"

Now listen… I should have shut up. I should have kept quiet and collected the money. Moved on. But my dear brothers and sisters…I thought it was God. Trying to end my single struggles. So I opened my foolish mouth and said: "Dont worry about sending me the money. 57k is smalls"

IT IS NOT SMALLS OH! Why did I say that?? Why?? Not only did I present myself as Money Miss Road… But I also walked confidently into the Maga Zone. By myself. No escort. Anyways, I did, and this is what she said.

"Okay…Youre such a gentleman. I also love your voice, by the way. Brilliant baritone." "You didnt tell me your name." "I didn't? Ah, I thought I did! So sorry, my name's Florence." "Florence?" "Florence." "Okay, Florence, is it okay if I have your number?" "Sure, call me whenever. I would love to hear your voice over and over again."

And that…That was how I met Florence. With small generosity and big foolishness. When I got home, I sent her a message on WhatsApp, but she didnt reply. So I called her. Once…Twice… Three times.

"Ohhh! I'm so sorryyy, I was in the kitchen making something for lunch. How are you… My life saver?"

The first time she called me her lifesaver. It sounded sweet, but when she kept repeating it, I got confused. It felt like she had either forgotten my name or she really needed someone to pay for her items at the supermarket. Anyway, we started talking a lot. We would chat, voice call and sometimes video call. She took me everywhere with her. She took me to her kitchen, her office, her gym and sometimes to her bathroom. We talked about everything. What did we not chat about? She would tell me everything, like everything. One time, unprovoked, she told me the story of how she lost her virginity. I didn't ask. But she told me… the whole story. Now, at first, it all felt… nice. But then I started spotting red flags. The first one? She never called me by my real name. It was either she called me "my life saver" or she called me "baby boy". Now Florence…she loved to flirt. She would send messages and one-time photos of herself changing her outfit. She'd say the nastiest things, then laugh it off like she was joking. "I once had a threesome with two brothers…" The next day: "Haha, I lied! Just wanted to see your reaction.."

One evening, she asked me, "Tell me… what do you like about me?" I said, "I like your smile… I like your energy…I like how you communicate with me." Then I asked her the same question. "What do you like about me?" She smiled and said: "Baby Boy… It's easier for me to tell you what I dislike…Because I love everything about you." She added, "If you ever ask me out, I'll scream YES!!!" We laughed. And moved on. But that moment? That day? Our friendship levelled up. We started spending more time outside. We would go to the cinema, have ice cream together, and watch movies at my place. Play card games and even travel outside Lagos together. I was in deep, guys. Deep into the story of Florence. What did we not do? There was one day at my place, we had just finished watching a movie. Florence looked at me and said, "Baby Boy, close your eyes"

She pecked me. I was shocked. She asked "Did you like it?". Of course, I liked it. Before nko? What was I supposed to say, "No"? That peck touched my soul.. My brain did 4G calculations. I kept replaying that peck for days, wishing she had just kissed me fully and ended my career.

But that? That was the beginning of the end. Because after that peck, Florence changed. She revealed a side I never knew she had. She became very manipulative. First, it was with errands. First, it started with errands. "Can you help me buy food?", "Please deliver this package to someone in Lekki.", "Massage my leg." "Take me round Eko Market…" Eko Market, my people!

One day, I wasn't even smiling again. She looked at me and asked, "Baby Boy, are you angry at me?". If you see the way I would squeeze out a smile and shake my head, you will think someone jazzed me. Whenever I was home, I would tell myself that I would never call her or go for any errand for her, but the moment I hear her voice and she says "Baby Boy" or "My life saver", I will just melt. The annoying part was that she knew I liked her, so she used it to her advantage.

"My Life Saver, if you can help me buy food and pick up my laundry… I'll give you a BIG peck on the cheek!"

Guys, you needed to see me move when I listen to voicenotes like this. It was as if someone had injected some boost into my bloodstream. But the sad reality was that she never gave me another peck. Instead, she would laugh it off and say "Baby Boy, youre crazy! And I like Crazy". That laugh? That laugh was the devil's ringtone. I couldn't even tell Fela or Nuel. Because they would roast me. They would laugh seriously at me. And every time I try to speak out and talk about it, I remember the peck she gave me on the cheek. I know my boys, if I tell Fela, he will make sure I sleep with her and have sex with her. Fela will say, "Edgar, you no fit dey do errand boy for free na, chop this girl raw!". Now Nuel will not advise me to do that, instead Nuel would just say: "Guy block her. Immediately." But what if this was a test? What if she wanted to see how far I can go? What if she wanted to see how big my heart was? After all, Love is patient and kind. And love…Has no transport reimbursement.

So how did my eyes open? Why am I still single and not married to Florence today? I will tell you everything after the short break. You people like Amebo ehn!

Tired of waking up in the morning to a lonely bed? Has your pillow been giving you the silent treatment? Are you tired of rewatching old romantic movies, wondering when it'll finally be your turn to fall in love while walking in the rain, hand-in-hand with your soul mate? Well, we have absolutely nothing to solve that problem. I'm here to offer you… nothing. No miracle cure, no magic potion, not even a free T-shirt. Just the smooth, buttery sound of my voice.

BUT! If you have a business, a product, or even a secret family recipe for jollof rice that you think the world needs to know about, here's your chance! Until I get real sponsors with actual products, you'll have to endure these silly ads. But you can change that! Yes, YOU can be the hero of this podcast by sponsoring an episode! Send an email to edgar@checkedgar.com if you want to hear your business being advertised in the smoothest, most handsomely voiced way possible.

Until then… well, brace yourselves, CheckMates, this is what you get.

One day, Florence invited me to a party. Actually, she asked me to drop her off. She didn't really invite me o. I had to ask if I could come. She hesitated… then said "Well, if you want to…". We got to the party, my people, you needed to see this place. Beautiful girls. Rich guys. Everywhere just clean. There were balloons floating, Small chops flying through the air like missiles. One corner had sip and paint, another corner, card games. People were laughing, vibing…It was like a Pinterest dream. Everything was sweet…until one of her friends asked "Who is he?". Florence turned her neck like a TikTok baddie, flipped her hair, looked at me and said, "Oh, him? He's my friend."

Now I wasnt upset because technically, she's right. What got me upset, however, was when another lady asked "Wait… is he your boyfriend?". Guys, you needed to see the disgust on Florence's face like I just told her I bathe in gutter water. Like I was an amoeba or an abomination. She said, "Noooo! How can he be my boyfriend? He can never be my boyfriend. God forbid! He's like a brother to me."

Immediately, I had a headache. My back started to ache. My vision became blurry. It looked like she invited me to make a mockery of me. Let's break down her statement. She could have just said no, but she dragged the NO to emphasise the impossibility. She didn't just shut the door, she bolted it, welded it shut, and burned the house down. This is the same me that will go from Ikorodu to Ajah, then to Surulere just to get a thank you. Anyways, let's continue. She said, "How can?" Meaning, I shouldn't dare imagine it. I shouldn't even dream about it in my sleep. There is no road ahead. It isn't possible for me to even think it, talkless of become it. Then the initial NO wasnt enough, she even added "Never!" That is two-factor authentication. If the bottles on the fence cannot prevent the thief, let's add some electrical wires. She now said "God forbid." That one scattered me. As if… If I somehow break through and love still finds a way, let the Creator of Heaven and Earth personally block the miracle. "He's like a brother to me." To finish it completely, she called me a brother. That's it. That's the death certificate. Friend Zone, sealed, signed, stamped. I stood there, looking at my destiny in a green short gown and Brazilian wig… and all I could say was: "Okay."

Everyone laughed and acted like it was a normal joke. After killing me, what finally buried me was when they asked her for my name. She looked at me, giggled, and said: "He will tell you himself, let me allow him to talk". "My name is Edgar. Edgar Eriakha" "That's true, his name is Edgar, yesss Edgar!"

Sometimes, ehn, it is not everything in your mind you say out. For example, there was no need to say the last line. Was the "That's true" necessary? Yes, you were smart with the first line when you said "Let me allow him to talk" It gave me a little dignity. Small one. But saying "yesss his name is Edgar" to my face only shows you have no regard for me. That was a slap. To my chest. With a frying pan. This may not make sense to you guys, but I feel like even if you dont like or respect me, sometimes it is okay to pretend and fake it while I am there.

After that embarrassment, I went to the restroom to wash my face. Nothing was wrong with my face. But I needed something…to feel like a human being again. The cold water gave me peace. A small reset. Then I heard the door open. She walked in. And in my heart, I thought maybe, just maybe, she came to explain. To apologise. Instead…She looked at me with a smile and said, "Baby Boy… can you help me get food across? My legs are hurting me."

I didnt say a word. didn't say a word. And till today, I still don't know why…But I did it. I went to get the meal for her. On my way back, I was just thinking about my life. I started asking myself questions about my life choices. Are these village people at work? Am I foolish? Or am I deeply foolish? Will I ever date someone again? Is she somehow related to my family? Do I still stand a chance…? And the biggest question of all, why am I still single?

My head was hot. I kept telling myself, Relax, everything will be fine. So I re-entered the party. She came up to me, smiled, and hugged me. She collected the packs of food… Then looked into my eyes and said: "Come, I want to introduce you to someone." I followed. Then this tall, bearded guy stepped forward, smelling like wealth and fresh passport stamps. He stretched his hand for a shake, firm grip and all.

"Edgar, meet Daniel, Daniel is my fiancé. Baby, Edgar is the guy I told you about." Daniel smiled and said, "Hi Edgar, I have heard great things about you, thank you for all that you do for my babe, may God reward you well" I was SHOCKED. My jaw nearly dislocated. So this girl actually knows my name. She called me Edgar in front of her man. Wait! So she had a man all along? Not just a boyfriend o, a whole fiancé. Meanwhile, I have been thinking that I stood a chance. There and then, I was seeing the real baby boy. MEANWHILE, I've been here acting like her personal assistant. Running errands, massaging her leg, dropping her off at parties like Uber with no pay. And she said I could never be her boyfriend…because the real boyfriend was coming in 10 minutes. I've heard great things about you…. What did you hear? What are the great things you have heard about me? That I massage her leg, go on different errands and that I act like her driver from time to time? That I'm her in-house therapist? That I know her menstrual cycle? That I remind her to drink water and send her affirmations every Monday morning? I did not know how to react! I was so upset on the inside. I just kept looking at her like…The worst part was that when Daniel asked me what I do for a living, I didn't know what to say. Because at that point, I didn't even know who I was anymore. Before I could respond, Florence jumped in, "Edgar has an amazing baritone. I want him to anchor the wedding". Both of them laughed. Together. At that point, I realised I wasn't even in the friend zone anymore. I had entered a new place. THE STAFF ZONE. Because this wasn't friendship. This was employment. Unpaid internship. And my reward? "God will bless you" from someone else's husband. It was at that moment I knew…I had fumbled Florence. Or maybe Florence fumbled me. Either way… I was done.

I quietly found a seat in one corner. Opened my food. And I ate like a widower at his wife's burial. Then I told Florence I was going home. She looked at me, "Ah, just wait, small na. So you can help me drop Daniel at his place."

Can you imagine? Daniel does not even have a car. I told her there was an emergency. A serious one. "Hello? Yes, I'm on my way." Nobody called me. The only emergency was my dignity bleeding in a nylon bag. She followed me to the car. Hugged me. Pecked me.

Then she smiled and said, "Remember, I promised you a peck? If you stay with me and take Daniel to his place, I might just kiss you…on the lips."

I was so upset I didnt respond. I didn't say a word. I told her I'd message her when I got home. She was shocked. She hissed, the ancestral kind, and walked back to the party.

That night, I learnt a lesson I'll never forget. You see, women, fear women. Fear women. Fear who has no fear women. Women might not know what they want, but they know what they don't want. And sometimes, it's you. If you give a woman the chance to see you, To study you, To use you…She will use you to the very end. Like Florence used me. She used me like last year's iPhone charger. And when she was done…She dropped me. No, thank you. No warranty.

There are signs. Always signs. If she doesn't know your name…Let her go. If she has too many male friends…Run. If she sends you on errands often, calling you "Baby Boy"…Brother, you are not in love. You are in logistics. Let her go!

So why am I still single? Because I failed to read between the lines. I let one peck lead me into a bottomless pit. I didn't learn from Silva, and now Florence has written a whole chapter in my book of pain.

She called me "Baby Boy," and I forgot my senses. If you're listening to this, and you know any therapist that specialises in romantic trauma…or any Aboki that sells soft suya near Glover Road…Please, I need help.

God knows that if I MC her wedding with Daniel, she is going to be so proud of me that Instagblog will carry her wedding for free. And if you've ever been a victim of extreme friend-zoning, send me your story. Let's cry together. Let's heal. Let's avoid the next Florence. My name is Edgar, and this is why am i still single.

And that's the end of this week's episode. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, then don't forget to subscribe and share this podcast with those who are single, dating, or married. Rate the podcast and drop a comment. And yes, you can donate to support the podcast. 3 dollars will go a long way.

If you have a story to share, then please send it to me through my email address, edgar@checkedgar.com or for a quicker response, chat with me in the chatbox on my website, www.checkedgar.com. I will respond in 3 hours, I promise. Edgar doesn't lie!