I dated a Nakate once. She made me believe I was the most important person in the world. Then she left me for a guy with a better tan.

My cousin is a Nakate. She’s got a smile that could make a saint blush and a body that could make a statue weep.

My mom said I was born to be a Nakate. I’m still trying to figure out what that means, but I like the sound of it.