I was highly amused to discover that there’s all sorts of profiling. Within five minutes of chatting me up, my red pout probably dazzled this bobo and he proceeded to interview me for a role that I wasn’t even aware I’d applied for.
“Are you catholic?” he enquired, amongst other things, I chuckled gently at his forwardness. He wondered why, and I cheekily commended him for having his checklist ready and within reach. He laughed a caught-in-the-act sort of laugh.
While Religious denomination profiling is one bowl of soaked Ijebu garri with idly floating ground nuts, Silver spoon profiling is another bowl altogether with milk added. That sly “What does your father do for a living?”
Let’s not forget the more subtle yet so powerful, it really packs a punch, I bet you’ve missed it several times because it seemed so innocent, like nothing more than a polite request. “What is your name?” Yes, this, sometimes, is the grandmother of Tribal profiling.
There is also Mother Nature profiling (Is that your own hair? Do you always wear make-up?), Hustler profiling (Do you know how to “do business”?), Domestic Goddess profiling (Can you cook?), Marlboro profiling (Do you smoke?) and Temperament profiling (Do you get angry easily?).
Ladies and gentlemen, no need for JAMB questions, there’s a fine art to this profiling business, subtlety is key. The trick is to obtain information without appearing like you are actually asking for it because being upfront is oh so mainstream. You must always remember that you are extraordinary, destined for world domination etc.
A cocky “Ah! Your efo riro will worship my efo riro in food heaven” might arouse a passionate argument from an authentic domestic god/goddess;
A breathy “I looove the rich, full-bodied aroma of coffee, tobacco smoke pales in comparison” and a die-hard chimney might beg to differ;
A casual “You seem so focused and disciplined, your father must be in the army” will most likely flatter the recipient and might produce a confirmation of said father’s actual occupation; and
A pious “Just the other day, an agbero slapped me for no reason and I turned the other cheek” might solve the temperament puzzle. If the response is astonished raised eyebrows, a confident slap of the chest accompanied by a Kai ! If it were me I would have plucked out his eyes, *hint hint*.
Romantic due diligence might as well be conducted with some serenre. Not so?
Like it or hate it, whether or not your feminism or masculinism fans the fire of your ego causing you to haughtily declare that a propositioners questioning made you feel like a commodity, the truth is that we are not unlike commodities.
“Spousal shopping” is no different from purchasing items, we make mental or written down lists of desired features and attributes because we are entitled to aspire for what we want out of life. As we mindfully analyse the opportunity cost of our choice of man or woman, the concept of demand vs. supply still applies.
So, whether we get exactly what we want or realise half-way that compromise has to be made or come full circle in the epiphany that what we thought we wanted wasn’t what we really needed, Life remains a market place.
PS: The mental image of my mother balancing a tray on her head with me splayed across said tray dressed in all my finery, just flashed before my eyes. 😀