Fibbin Photographer!

Thomas and I were at breakfast yesterday. The breakfast buffet has in years become a bonding – catching up ritual for us. He happens to be my best-friend and of-late we haven’t been able to spend as much time together as we would’ve liked.

So, we are at breakfast and taking pictures, goofing around. He kept stealing from my plate and I rewarded him by bawling my lungs out over an emotional incident sometime between the breadbasket and the cheese and mushroom omelet. My mood improved steadily as I worked my way through the sausages and by the time I was mulling over a ‘Chateau Gateau’ I was positively beaming!

The incident begins with a lady breaking into our conversation

“Hi! I have the same kind of camera” She says from the other table

We smiled politely at her, she was in her late 50’s, salt and pepper hair and a restrained smile.

“It’s a good Camera” I nodded

“I can take pictures of you once I’m done with my coffee. Give me five minutes”

Before we could protest, she was cleaning her baked beans and baked potatoes with parsley in one swoop.

Thomas and I exchanged a look, shrugged and I went back to the cake and fruits.

“You ready?”

“She’s just being sweet Thomas come on” With his smile confirming his agreement we handed over the camera.

For the next couple of minutes she scouted for a location and then, just when we sported our best smiles…

“You have to look at each other! Come on!”

We did, “Now that’s a sweet couple”

Our smiles froze to the likes of Chandler’s smile

She then proceeded to humiliate us, taking picture after picture… “Stand Here! Go there! You – Chin Up! I have Photoshop! I love photography!”

I could feel Thomas seething “I should knock her the fuck out” through the fake smile

I was thinking “Just smile and wave, boys. Smile and wave”

When she had her fill of crouching, tip toeing, and half-squatting acrobatic stunts, she gave us back the camera and walked off.

There were 23 photographs. We were recognizable in 3.

Never judge the book by the way it runs it’s mouth! Hmph!

Here is the one that we were recognizable in:

Thomas and I

Archie… Bounty Hunter Extrodinaire! (part 2)

Img Courtesy: Fire-Designs.com

So this is where I die, bludgeoned to death by a Neanderthal off his meds.

“Ulle irukaanga” He grunted (they are inside)

In all this commotion I failed to notice a man by the door, watching us… Anger rose up inside me, like I was about to throw up lava.

Deepak Debnath, scum of the earth. In high school he had asked me out twice and had been turned down. This resulted in him exploiting his artistic license on bathroom walls, with anonymous paper copies of the same being left on lunch bags and homework books.

Ex-Nothing held out a hand I took it.

“ AJ? I don’t believe it! How’ve you been cupcake?”

“Don’t-call-me-that” I said gritting my teeth.

I’d made fists. He turned to Ex-Nothing “Leash your cat bro”

In a flash ex-nothing lunged for him only to be bodily lifted off the ground by mammoth himself.

“Inga no fighting” (No fighting here) he growled.

“Fucking mammoth” ex-nothing obviously didn’t enjoy being man-handled.

Suppressing a sudden giggle, I waddled in after them and found Silva* on the couch, wasted.

“She wants to stay with me.” Deepak Debnath, putrid dog turd.

“I want to hear her say it” “Then come back tomorrow cupcake”

I looked to ex-nothing for help. He was busy with mammoth’s X-Box. What is it with men and X-Boxes?

After a lot of argument and name calling,(Mammoth keeping Ex-Nothing from maiming Deepak or worse) he stirred Silva*. She sat up on the couch and promptly spewed her last meal. A few minutes and a glass of water later, she came to and sat cross- legged, groggy, swaying…

“Tell them you won’t go home” Deepak Debnath, gutter slime

“unh”

“Silva*, It’s Joycey, look, I’m gonna take you home to your mother now ok?” “No” She sulked like a five year old

“What? Listen your mother is worried about you. Call her. I’ll let her know you are safe ok?”

“I’m staying with Deepichoo… We will have parties and two dogs and three little girls…” Hacking cough. “We are a couple now.”

She rocked back and forth outlining her dreams… She seemed so vulnerable.

“Err… Boo… your mother is more important, go home tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow” I turned to Deepak, was he sweating? Ex-Nothing and I exchanged an amused look.

“What’s the rush?” Guess Ex-Nothing will get to land a sucker punch after all.

“We’re leaving. Dogs and kids sound lovely” I pulled ex-nothing away and realized he was half-smiling. Obviously enjoying the way things were turning out.

“You can’t leave. Her mom’s worried about her, get ready boo, you have to go home” He shot us a murderous look “can you wait outside?”

“You can’t force her to do anything against her will dude” Ex-Nothing faced him squarely.

“Wait-the-fuck-outside” he was sweating and profusely at that… Debated with himself and added “Please” through pursed lips.

I pulled Ex-Nothing outside and we flopped down on one of the stairs leading up to the terrace. My eyes felt like they were filled with sand and a thousand trolls swing danced in my head.

“My neighbor’s cat is an FTA. Wanna take up the case Ms.Bounty Hunter?”

“Shut up”

Raised voices inside the house. Silva* high pitched and obviously crying… Deepak Debnath, pimple on the… well, I hated him and everything he stood for. MEN!

“Wanna get some dinner once this is over?” “I’m not hungry” He took out his mobile phone and got busy. Watching his ever familiar features I had a moment of what the Japanese call… Satori …

There are men in my life that I love and despise with equal fervor.

Arun, who is talented, predictable, irritating, loving. Thomas, mature, silly, respectful, trustworthy, reliable, annoying, the look in his eyes when he picked me up bloody and disoriented in the accident said it all. TK, silly, lazy, affectionate, funny, and sweet, putting up with my phobias, he sets my heart racing conveying more in his “take care” and “you too” than in our entire conversation. Sathish, struggling between two extremities, of having to be human and his call to be super-human. John who is nothing short of a miracle…

Men, whom I respect, men I love, men I’m friends with, men I simply hold in awe…and then there are the Deepaks , freaks of nature, rude, ill-mannered, despicable, perverted, virulent, no respect for self / others…

“How about if we skipped dinner and went to that Donut place by the beach. Two friends talking over a…a…Strawberry Glaze and a Mochachino if I remember right… How about that?”

Damn, “Yeah… How about that?” I met his eyes and smiled.

I need Pepper Spray :(

Police Off Duty Pepper Spray

Allright this is what happened.

Last night I rode to office on my bike and sped into the basement parking lot at 10.00pm. It was deserted as usual with a few lights throwing a halo around themselves.

I parked and slung my bag over my shoulder and plucked up the current book I was reading(Jonathan Kellerman) from the rear compartment.

I turned around and the lights went out. Pitch black . Taking a deep breath I took a step forward and all of a sudden a mob of shadows yelling indistinct stuff rushed me from the far end… I froze and then executed the best defensive technique in Navy SEALs history. I chucked my Jonathan Kellerman at em.

They were closing ground fast “F**k! I’ve gotto return that book”, the biggest shadow was in the lead!

“Jesus Christ!” I let out a shriek and swung my bag at the nearest shadow.

I guess the Lord heard me, coz “Aaaargh” I heard someone yell. Contact!

Someone threw a lot of light in my face and I froze, blinded. Hell, if I was going down I was taking those bastards with me; I swung with all my might again and sprayed deodorant in their eyes…

“STOP, STOP!! MADAM SORRIIIIIEEEEEE”, “Arrrgggggghhh”

The lights came on and I saw a bunch of men AND women (huh?) a few of them still thrashing around from the deodorant in their eyes and nursing battle wounds… The mob scattered and a few stayed behind.

“We thought you were someone else…” said someone from the midst of the motley crew.

A wimpy mole faced dude waved a bunch of candles in my face and abruptly backed off when I raised my bag again.

“Surprise!” another guy yelled smiling into the flashlight, (although the basement lights were back) probably hoping I’d take a cue from his Broadway acting skills.

I stuck the bottle of deodorant in my bag and turned squared my shoulders to give them a piece of my mind. I’ve never heard of such a f****d up thing in my life!They had surprised the wrong person.

“Sorry”, “Really sorry”, “Didn’t know”, “our mistake”

“You ok?”

“Here is your book”

“Give me that!” I grabbed the book, my voice ringing strange in my ears fuming at the freak of nature staring at my breasts. “AND I’M UP HERE” I screamed knocking the book against my forehead for emphasis. Oh screw this, I threw the book down and made a fist, I was knock this f****r out with a sucker punch.

“I’m sorry we give you fright” said the mime guy, in the split second that my attention wavered, the breast-starer had scurried away.

“I’m not sorry I flip you the b**d” and I did. They drew in a collective breath the candle waver was looking like he’d seen the devil. The Mr.Broadway gingerly picked up my book and laid it on the seat of my bike and backed up.

I felt like a Salem Witch, only if they came any closer I’d… well, bludgeon them to death with my hand bag and throw the book at them again?

I was going to walk away like a lady and throw up in the bathroom.and my mamma proud. her little girl don’t break mean boys’ noses no more. (I’ve broken very few of those by the way. I prefer a kick in the whoo-hooies or compasses)

Walking away, realization hit me, I had no way of protecting myself. I need pepper spray, maybe a taser so I can zap em in d ass and a gun.

Maybe the gun is a long shot, but I do need pepper spray.

Sigh!

Archie… Bounty Hunter Extrodinaire! (part 1)

“Chalo me gotto run… catch ya l8r” I told Apar over IM and rushed to grab a jacket and my sneakers. I was wearing a pink and white t-shirt a tan skirt and a frown.
Silv*’s mom had called me 5 mins back to tell me that her daughter hadn’t been home for the past two days and she that she was worried. I’d met Silv* 3 yrs ago in the beginning of my career and we had been on talking terms ever since. Her mother sounded distraught and I wondered if it was a prank. After some trick questions and a lot of high pitched whines and tears from the other end, my resolve broke.
Mrs. S didn’t want to go to the police,”Her father would kill me. He is in Dubai at the moment.”
Oh Boy!

I arrived at their house and could not coax anything out of Aunty S as she sobbed into her expensive looking scarf.
“She went out, to a party and didn’t come back”
I contemplated. I was not a detective or a bounty hunter, I needed help.
Do I call IJ or my friend in Bengaluru? IJ was eternally busy and I did not want to call my bengaluru friend and upset his weekend. They’d probably just ask me not to be a damn sissy.

I shuffled behind Aunty S to the kitchen and accepted a wedge of her famous spice cake… Her kitchen smelled of potpourri…Mulberry? And then it hit me. Time to go flower power!
I called Gaby*(Perfect pseudonym, given her supernatural ability to gab and gossip). “Hey Gab, It’s AJ, how you been girl?”
“OMG I heard that you were going out with someone, who is he?”
“I don’t know what you are talking about”
“Oh come on you were spotted at dinner”
“He is a friend.I ran into Silv’s mom today” How the hell!
“Oh, so on a scale of one to ten, how will you rate your level of romantic interest in your friend?” Don’t give up easy do you?
“Who? and have you caught up with Silv lately? It’s been so long, I was wondering…”
“I wouldn’t been seen dead with that bitch, she screwed my cousin over…Last I heard she was shacking with that boxer dude who hangs out with your ex-interest. That slut, whoring all around town”
“He is my ex-nothing” Hell, she probably remembered how many chipped nails I had in 6th grade…“hey I gotto go, my dog’s peeing on the carpet”
“You don’t have a dog or a fucking carpet”
She was a ‘gorgeous potty-mouth’ according to my friend Puny Todd.

 I  put on my game face called my ex-nothing. After a few pleasantries, I told him about the situation and he offered to take to me to meet the ‘boxer dude’. “If we are done early, we’ll get some dinner” he added.
Tackle that later, sigh.
Mascara, some lip gloss, Hugoboss ‘deep red’, not that it helped. I was dressed like a bum off the street and I was off to meet a stranger with an alleged ‘ex’.'Dressed to kill’ said a skinny half naked woman from Silv’s bedroom wall. More like dressed to repel, I muttered to myself.

Mr. Ex-Nothing called me from across the street and I was pleasantly surprised to see my ride. A black Skoda withfancy wheels polished to a twinkle, I half expected him to get out wearing a Suit shirt and dress pants with his tie askew.Loose fitting jeans, a muscle t-shirt under a carelessly thrown shirt and expensive looking shoes. Puma.

I looked up at the sky and cursed.

“So who is this boxer-dude? and if you say anything about the skirt, I’m calling a cab”
“What about if I say something about your legs”
“I’ll scratch the leather”
“His name is Mickey*, he boxes for the Southern Railway team. And it was going to be a compliment” I adjusted the seat threw my bag in the back seat.
“Are you kidding me? They are all goons and I think I can have cab here in 15 minutes and I carry a sharp as hell nail filer”
“Mickey’s chicken shit, scared of the cops.” He looked me over,leaned over to adjust the ac flap,(Steered well away from me)
“You’ve changed your perfume”smiled and put the car in gear.
I stared dead ahead. Game Face. ”And my shampoo”. Ex-nothing alright!

We reached a small one story house in a posh locale. We parked out front and walked up to the gate.”Beware of Dogs” said the sign. Ex-Nothing seemed oblivious to it and pushed the gate open.
“If I get bitten am running a key across  the hood of your…”
This was not a dog; it was a bloody bull charging us from the shadows. I was knocked flat on my ass before I could scream and there was a slob fest.  One minute I was elated about not being torn to shreds the next minute I was mortified.
“Poo breath” I cursed and sat up making sure my skirt was in place.
A chuckle “Not fair, you must be the only girl I know who falls without her skirt riding high”
“Eat shit and die”

A shadow loomed over me. “yenna vaenum?” (What do you want?)
I looked up to see a mountain of muscle  towering over me, not the least bit happy, with a cane in hand. My heart jumped to my throat when I saw my knight in shining armor back up a few steps. It didn’t help that I was sitting on the ground, when he moved closer I had to look up and he was just endless,I think I cricked my neck.
So this is where I die, bludgeoned to death by a Neanderthal off his meds.

(To be Contd on request…)

Puny Todd

Puny Todd* hated smiling and I did my best to avoid him.

He is always in between jobs or “am-just-about-to quit” phases that render him a depressed twit, too pissed with the world to offer a smile.

It’s not like people don’t call him a vacant-eyed looser beyond his back. But his friends always stick up for him. I was neither.

Now here he was, on a hot April afternoon, puny as ever, wearing baggy jeans and an oversized jacket.

“Hey I saw you from across the street. How are you?”

“What’s up Puny Todd. You look… well”

He huffed and he puffed “Yeah… you smell nice”

“Errr… thanks”

“You want to get out of the sun?”

“mmmm”

Puny Todd gnawed along the edge of the bone and inspected the chunk of meat that was left. He held it up and proclaimed “This is good stuff” and proceeded to masticate, his cheeks straining with the effort.

“Mmm” I smiled downing my Soda.

“Puny Todd” I ventured, “Why do people find you irritating?”

“Slurrrrrp” His ice cream soda vanished.

“Ethos… they are intimidated by me”

“Mmm”

“Why do men find you attractive Jo Gurl?” (Why does he always call me that)

“They don’t”

“You are humble. If you were socially ambient, they would find you intimidating. See what I mean?” (Socially what?)

“Mmm…”

“Not that I make value judgments of course.”

“Mmmhmmm”

“Are you gonna finish your soda?”

Shaking head “mmhmmm”

“Slurrrrrp, thanks, you were always nice to me Jo m’ gurl”

Was that a smile? It looked like gas.

“Ethos… looks like the bastards got to me too Puny Todd!”

Whatever that meant.

*(Puny Todd’s name has been changed to help many of my non-blogging friends identify him. Most of us have forgotten his real name)