Yesterday, I was at my stupid best, a near perfection of myself. A few consecutive events over dinner defined this more than what happened over a hot uneventful day in Bangalore.
We were at this nice little Flamenco Crossroads Cafe in the lazy bylanes of Jayanagar, friends catching up over some continental dinner, when I went up to the counter to place a few orders, and pick up a bottle of Mountain Dew for a four-eyed friend.
After the order was placed, I turned 270 towards the fridge that was chilling the nerves out of our sodas which appeared to be were huddled together for warmth. Hadn't done this in a long time, I grabbed the handle and gave it a soft but sure tug.The door refused to open.
I looked around to see if anyone was observing. Sure my friends were, looking a little confused. I had a go again, this time the tug was slightly stronger. More like trying to wake the fridge up. Vain.
I looked around to see if anyone was observing. Sure my friends were, looking a little confused. I had a go again, this time the tug was slightly stronger. More like trying to wake the fridge up. Vain.
I looked around, by now the four eyed friend had a wide grin and was waving in the air, trying to indicate something. He said something about the other side and crap. What does he take me for, a fool? It's a fridge, not the ISS. There can only be one way, pull, to open it. So I had a go, again. Only this time I used my telepathy to tell the fridge to obey the man. Fortunately, mind went over the matter called hand and just one more authoritative tug was all it took to free the bottle opener that was leeched on the door frame. Damn.
Yes, I took that for the handle and now all my four eyed friends were ROFL. The other diners started getting curious about the entertainment. I pulled myself up, put the bottle opener back in place and then realized, that by other side, my friend was not refering to how the door opened, but to where the door handle was. Hell.
Pretending nothing unusual or even mildly entertaining happened, I opened the wrong sided door and with some attitude of a bartender, pulled out the green lantern in a bottle, placed it head first into the bottle opener and nudged it a bit.
I think it was cross with me for treating the door with utter disdain. As soon as the crown was off, it hissed like a snake and spat some soda on the floor like it was venom. Lucky the crown was off, or I'm sure it would have tried to bite. By now the floor was rolling on my friends, laughing, and a few more curious eyes pierced my ears and the over grown hair on my head.
I was still holding together. I clutched the bottle and walked up to the table made bright with wide teethy grins, the venomous soda still sweating my palms. I held the bottle out for my friend and the wretched thing fought free from my grip and landed on the thick glass table top with a sound that could have broken a thinner glass pane.
To my good fortune, which had so far been excellent, the glass didn't break. But the grumpy woman in her mid two hundred and thirtys did. "Whats wrong with you man", she said. I could just manage a sheepish face and a weak sorry, with a wave of the hand like I had everything under control. I did, in a way, isn't it?
I sat down, while my friends recollected the many things that happened, I got up to go to the counter for a few tissue papers, to dab the soda off the table top. Then I imagined almost everything thing that could possibly go wrong on my way back there, and thought better of it. Waved to the waiter (read mute amused spectator) to get the tissues and started on a long course of digging into parts of a Garden sizzler, two pastas, arrabiata and al cilantro and a Veg A la King. Drowned with a Kiwi Fruit granita, ice tea and the killer soda.
