Betty our resident waitress stopped by and said “A vote for your thoughts” and I winced visibly since if that were to happen maybe I should seriously reconsider moving to some place where elections are banned. Betty looked at me and said
“What’s biting you? Is it girl trouble?”
Well, I wish it were since I think those troubles are easier to handle than what I was facing. Betty didn’t wait for me to answer but said
“You are looking like my
brother who is also trying to drink his troubles away. And to think that all I asked
him was to help me put out an advertisement in the matrimonial website for me,
his being an IT guy and all that”.
“So you getting married ? Who’s the lucky guy?”
Betty scornfully said “If I had a lucky guy I wouldn’t be putting out the advertisement, would I?”
Well I must admit she had a point there. Betty continued
“But why Mikey, that’s my brother, should get all upset at my wanting to get married I don’t understand. Sometimes I think these IT guys are not fully wired properly”
Now I am always ready to hear
other people’s sorrows so I can feel better so I asked “What happened? Tell me
all”. Betty dived into the recess of her ample bosom and pulled out a sheet of
paper, smoothened it out and handing it to me said “Ever since I made him give
out this advertisement he has been morose and looks like something the cat
bought home. Now you read it and tell me what’s wrong with it?”
I looked at it and gulped,
then to hide my confusion took a long drink from the brew and looked at it
again. It still read the same and went like this.
Betty, beautiful and homely, lovely cook, very talkative and friendly
looking for a husband and I am not very picky.
Just want the basics of life and I am very adjustable. The guy I want
should be like this.
Earning & hardworking like an American.
Romantic like the Frenchman.
Talk to a woman like an Italian.
Traditional like an Indian.
Have sex like an African.
Play cricket like an Australian.
And be a gentleman like an Englishmen.
I suddenly realised that Betty
and me were like soul mates, we both were clear on what we wanted but the world thought we were missing some
marbles. No wonder that my day at the office had been rotten. But wait I am forgetting that the reader doesn’t
know what happened at the office. We authors sometimes make such mistakes. So let
me explain.
I walk into the office and
proceed straight to cafeteria and order a Chai.
The chappies next to me look at me and say “Communal chap it seems, let’s
stay away”. I was confused but let it go.
Sitting at my desk I soon
found that the draft from the A/c vent kept blowing on my face/neck and so I take
out a muffler I had and wrapped it round my neck. I do get a stiff neck with cold air you know.
One of the chappies, a elderly guy but always full of energy walked in for
getting some papers signed and looked at me askance. He didn’t say anything but just before he
left the room said “Must be an AAPtard”.
Lunch time and I decided to
have a slice of pizza and a salad with olive oil. As I sat eating these
chappies walk by and seeing me remark “Must be a pseudo Italian”.
Soon I found that everyone
looked at me with hostility and by evening as I was ready to leave for home the
boss called me in and asked “Tell me what is your position in this office? Are
you a pseudo secular or communal or an anarchist? “. As I looked on he explained “Listen, with
elections announced the people are very clear about their choice. If you support BJP the others think you are
communal, if you support Congress the others think you are a pseudo secular and
if you support AAP then you are considered an anarchist by the others. So make
up your mind”.
I didn’t like any of the name
tags being given to me and I saw merit in all 3 but no, that was not
acceptable. I had to choose. That is when I left for the Anglers arms and well
you know the rest.
Looking at the list of Betty I
thought what it is that I wanted.
Decisive tough leader like
Modi.
Soft spoken, dimpled innocent young guy like Rahul.
Honest & transparent firebrand
like Arvind.
I mean both Betty and I did
not have too many expectations but yet people felt we were asking for too much.
I still don’t know what I am
going to tell the boss when I get back to office tomorrow. But one thing for sure I know that both Betty
and me won’t get what we want.
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