Read Jayesh's post on Monday 1 Oct 2007 at http://www.the-unarticulate.blogspot.com before you read on.
Well, I think Jayesh is making a hullabaloo and cribbing about nothing. As I told him yesterday, he has to count his blessings that he has been mistaken for a Sunny Mangolassiwala or Frankie Boy or even Lucky Lou, instead of say, a Shelly Mangolassiwala or Frannie Girl or Lucky Lucy.
Just this Sunday aftie, I had the misfortune of facing such a traumatizing situation. Believe you me, it does dreadful things to one's ego.
I invited a few pals and an insufferable cad (you will know who soon enough) for Sunday lunch. Being the considerate host that I am, I was wasting lots of energy trying to get Sir Sgt 'un-lost' over the phone. He was walking towards my apartments and was clearly confused by the many bends of The-road-I-live-on Rd and was hence, sulking (because he likes to be in-charge). To be fair to him, if you take a left on The-road-I-live-on Rd, it is still The-road-I-live-on Road. You take a right, it is still The-road-I-live-on Road, you walk straight it is still The-road-I-live-on Road.
Anyways, so, I was directing him over the mobile phone to walk past the park on his left and to kindly if he could please not get distracted by the many Filipino maids in the neighbourhood (he has a thing for Filipino dames, and Australian chicks, and plump diving instructors from LA and….) in order to catch sight of me. I was, at the same time, peering over the skinny bushes around me and eagerly enquiring "Do you see me? Do you see me?" After a frustrating minute or two, he finally yelled into the phone, "Yes! I see you."
But I couldn't see an inch of him. So I did a 360 degree turn, in the process stepped on the toe of the guy who was right behind me and tripped on the skirt I was wearing. I still couldn't see him.
Meanwhile, his voices cackled on the phone again, "No wait, that isn't you. That's an old man."
First, my reaction was this – '!'
Then it was – '!!!'
Then it was - '$%@%^!@%#&@#$&*(@#%^!$#^%&@*^@%@^&#%&%&*#%@$#^$@%!'
A second of stunned silence from my end was broken when the heartless cad spoke again to explain - "He was walking like you." Apparently this was a perfectly reasonable explanation.
Being a lady who could handle anything with utmost equanimity and dignity, I inquired in a very civil tone (my voice only hit the 150dB mark and was only audible to the man on the 30th floor three streets away as opposed to the man on the moon) what did he mean mistaking a Gangly Old Man for me, and how dare he mistake a Gangly Old Man for me, and what was he thinking of by mistaking a Gangly Old Man for me.
But before he could reply, I caught sight of same Gangly Old Man in question and my heart dropped into my pit. I whined into the phone, "But his limbs are flying all over the place"
To which Sir Sgt succinctly replied, "Exactly."
I didnt know whether to throw a godawful tantrum right there and then (which I thought was the more mature option) or to run up to him (I caught sight of him by now) and clobber the bejezzus out of him.
Well, what happened next is not the point of this post. Suffice to say that rumour hath that I have a heavy hand for such insolence.
So, you ain't got nothin' to complain about, Frankie Boy..err, I mean Jayesh.
2 comments:
hahah :))) too much!
but then again think of all the upsides: you can apply for senior citizen discounts, stand for election (no one will refer to you as 'that pesky young upstart'), and you're guaranteed a seat on the mrt from other equally misguided young men :D
Dont be ridiculous :-) You couldnt stomach being mistaken for a John Doe, now you are trying to soothe me by pointing out the upsides of being mistaken for an octogenarian? It's funny until it happens to you :-)
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