Too much of a good thing
Friday, February 8, 2008
The straight-face files: Part I
I mistook 'Mensuration of triangles' for 'Menstruation of triangles' and submitted my notes that way. :-|
If your friend is going out with a cottonian, and is looking for something cute (not in my opinion, though) to call him, NEVER suggest 'Cotton Candy'. :-| However pleased you may be with yourself, never expect your friends to appreciate it. :-|
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Pride goes before a mall...
A fat, scary (even by our standards) sweeper-woman approached us menacingly. “Idu aata aado jaaga na? Horage hogtira illa manager saar karila?”
The intelligent species that we were, didn’t expect the cutest guy with the kindest heart to be the boss of that Parvathamma-impersonator. We knew better than to risk our N-95s and Metro-bought-ballerina-shoes (We were exhausted of cash, you see). We had a problem on hand. M’s buy-anything-below-50-bucks treat to P was due. You see, P completed the dare to empty her bladder in the men’s restroom, which invited a variety of stares, ranging from morbidly terrified to downright disgusted. I tried to look like I wasn’t a part of this uncivilized faction which had missed out on evolution. It would have been a lot easier if I wasn’t wolfing down a plate of pani-puri beside the sink. So then we hurriedly came out before the mall authorities could register our faces so well that they’d recognize us the next day when we played ‘Lock and key’. We tried to put on ‘we’ll-show-you-who’s-the-boss’ expressions on our faces, but all I managed was a ‘Do-you-really-have-to-look-at-me-like-I’m-an-
At least M had a bright side to look at. 50 bucks saved, without having to be a jerk. But it’s not like there are no eateries outside Sigma or that we are satisfied, understanding people. So M, realizing there was no way to boost her non-existent economical side, succumbed to our hyper-active enzyme glands (err...just assume I used the right term).
That was when the hormones too decided to operate. We didn’t mind even a red-haired man with yellow pants, incapable of movement. And that’s exactly what we got. With a smile on his face, and inviting arms, Mr. Mc Donald beckoned. It was just a matter of which of the 7 of us got there first. If not for his @ss glued to the platform, I’d bet my appetite, he’d be racing the buses in the opposite direction.
With little minutes left for a mind-numbing Physics lecture, I meekly suggested getting back to college. Many disapproving glares later, the gang decided to head back. It wasn’t my fault that the teacher thought arrivals late by more than half an hour (of a 40 min class) merited denial of (much needed) attendance!! Inconsiderate. It wasn’t like we hadn’t had our share of getting kicked out for the day!!
Anyway, we managed a just-in-time entry. The drone in the teacher’s voice was sedative. Her redundant explanations of the same topic drove my neighbor to groan ‘kitni baar!!’ My half asleep brain transmitted those words as ‘Kick me hard!!’
And ta-daa, I let the footballer in me take over.