Sep 6, 2007
Battle of the Blues
It was not funny at all. I was there, sitting in that wretched coffee shop, trying to drown myself in the nitty-gritties of microeconomics, with a lukewarm capuccino that tasted like it was made with the same mud, that Vasco Da Gama shook out of his boots when he landed in Kerala. I was trying to concentrate and was completely, successfully unsuccessful. I was in utter despair and turned to look out through the glass, seconds before I toppled out the chair and poured the muddy beverage all over my precious gold-wrought knickers.
There was a huge crowd staring right at me, through the glass. I looked and felt a fool. It was not a new feeling anyway, as my girlfriend would comment with immense sarcasm. But still, it was a bit too sudden. I was trying to look dignified and delicately picked myself up, trying not to lose my sex appeal in the process. They were still staring at me. I was puzzled.
I have never been stared at for so long by anybody; let alone a bunch of awestruck, pretty specimens of the fairer sex. The last time anybody stared at me was when I was hopping around in apparent pain, in the middle of the road, having caught myself in the zipper. The phenomenon was and is not regular. I rationalized. After pretty, heavy-duty calculations that would have required the processing capacity of at least six supercomputers, I made the obvious conclusion. It was not me that they were staring at.
And after making a thorough and extensive study of the surroundings that included two old men who were trying to dump their wives and elope, I decided that neither was it because of,
1) the hot female in a bathing suit, with shapely thighs sitting behind me; nor
2) the hot female in a bathing suit sitting behind me; nor
3) the hot female in a suit sitting behind me; nor
4) the hot female sitting behind me; nor
5) the female sitting behind me, even.
I was still looking around, making assumptions and discarding them like Bluebeard's wives, when I heard the crowd roar a single word in unison and a brick loosened from the ceiling.
The fog cleared. Clarity rose. Cognition proceeded. Enlightenment dawned. Birds flew. Crows pooped. Mosquitoes bit. The brick fell. Trains ran. Goats bleated. DFock yawned. Etc.
I slowly swivelled in my chair to see a 40 inch monitor, mounted high on the wall and watched a white ball being tossed around a green field. I could not help myself cheering though I would have rather preferred women wrestling. And surprisingly, we won.