CantthinkofanameforthisbloG

Have you ever felt the universe was playing a cruel joke on you? That the people around you are all involved in some elaborate practical joke? Ever felt that your most innocent of actions will be misinterpreted with repercussions hilarious to all but yourself? …..  O just me then :(

Following are a snapshot of a few unfortunate incidents that seem to transcend the fabric of space/time and friend circles and come back to haunt me time and time again. For years I tried to avoid being put in that situation however when I least expect it … there it is and there I am again, the laughing stock of the lot.

From now on I intend to walk around with a banner that reads – ‘Yes it is … and No I’m NOT!!’ Read on to find out why –

It all began back in the year 2004 when I went to Bangalore with my cousin Dan, my neighbor Abi. We were there for the weekend and decided to drop in at one of the nearby pubs. Dan and Abi ordered their usual poisons however as I did not drink I was a bit lost in the alcohol menu. That menu to me was like a broken pencil – pointless! Noticing my clear confusion (oxymoron anyone) the waiter approached. Then as soon as I told him that I was a teetotaler his expression changed from genuine concern to absolute disgust –“but … but this is a bar” he said. I shrugged my shoulders and sank into my bar stool (which is not as easy as it sounds). After a quick pause he suggests I go in for a mocktail, something known as the bartenders special to be precise. I nodded in agreement. Not a puppy dog nod or an epileptic nod, but a manly nod – short, quick and very subtle (ladies do not read into that I was only referring to the nod). Soon the drinks arrived, well theirs did anyway; mine was late. I looked about impatiently as I know from past experiences that the guy not holding a drink in a bar stands out like a sore thumb. Little did I know that things were about to get worse, much worse.

By this time my cousin Dan and Abi were halfway down their beers when they stopped and stared out into the dimly lit bar. One of the waiters appeared to be holding something; something positively revolting. It was a fluorescing shade of pink and seemed to be dancing in the strobe lights. It had a long multicolored straw projecting well above the brim. The straw was flanked by two rather large strawberries which were in turn covered with a light sprinkling of whipped cream. Even the glass containing this bizarre concoction was oddly curvy in a very impractical yet suggestive way. It took me whole 20 seconds to take in how incredibly girly that drink was and was sure it could only be ordered be some really tacky girl with the need to OD on pink. It took my cousin and friend all of three seconds to realize that that it was my drink. Then it arrived … pinker and more girly that it appeared across the bar. Suddenly it sank in --- this was my drink. THIS WAS MY DRINK!! This was the bartenders special; Special What? Special Humiliation for coming to a bar and not ordering alcohol. 

I sat there, staring at the drink. Its rainbow colored straw staring back at me. Its whipped cream coated strawberries bobbing on either side of it. The incredible pinkness amplified and fluorescing by the UV lighting and dim surroundings. Laughter at the bar. Laughter so loud that no matter how hard you try, you cannot look away. Laughter by your own cousin and you best friend. I felt the walls close in on me. The music dimmed, faces disappeared (except mine thanks to the light next to my head). Whispers were heard (above the laughter) fingers were pointing, grinning teeth were seen, the two at my table were still laughing. Finally I had had it. Sat up straight, looking across at the crowded tables on either side of me I said – “Yes it is… and No I’m Not”. Then proceeded to take a sip of the drink, after moving the strawberries out of the way. It turned out that I hated the taste of the drink but no one believed me than and I’m sure they would not believe me now.

This was just the beginning… There is more … Much more… watch this space!

Overlook the hype, ignore the screaming female fans, suspend logical reasoning and most of all - forget everything you knew about vampires. Now you are prepared to objectively look at the movie Twilight and its sequel New Moon and irrevocably utter the words WTF !!!

Now it would not be fair to review both movies separately, as well, not much happened in either to warrant the creation of two separate blog-posts so allow me to give you the story of twit-fight and ‘twit-fight same-tune’, as I saw it. Disclaimer: - I have not read the book and hopefully never will, so my thoughts/opinions are only directed towards the movie and the hysteria it has generated.

The movie ‘twit-fight’ begins like most movies … with the opening credits. Soon after that however things  gets really boring. The story (continuing story) is once again about a tragic love story (between the undead and the wish-she-was-dead). The main character is (the jury is still out if whether he has character or not) called ‘Head-weird Dull-hen’ a manic-depressed, anorexic, make-up wearing, overly dramatic vampire with suicidal tendencies and road kill for a toupee. He (or a she trapped in a he’s body) is chemically attracted to ‘Bella Yawn’ a hormonally imbalanced, whiney, overly dramatic ‘wannabe-a vampire’ girl with the sex appeal of a fungal spore being ingested by a fruit fly sitting on a mound of animal fecal matter floating on a swap at the wrong end of a sewage treatment plant. Now as if that was not enough we have another potential suitor for the less-than-ideal Bella Yawn. Enter Gay-cub Black, a steroid overdosed dog with a phobia of shirts and a penchant for barking up the wrong tree (in this case Bella Yawn as she does have the personality of a coconut tree, and is also clearly nuts).

Now that you are familiar with the characters and plot outline of Twit-fight let me tell you a bit more about the movies. So let see.. Bella Yawn cries, … then a bit later Head-weird Dull-hen cries, .. Then Bella Yawn cries some more, … then Gay-cub Black cries a bit, … old man dies (of a heart attack and not a vampire bite/werewolf attack like other normal movies of the genre). Yupp … that’s about it ... O yea and A-lice Dull-hen, sister of Head-weird Dull-hen drives a Porsche 911 turbo. Now that pretty much sums up the movie for me, that and the fact that in twit-fight the werewolves were in fact slightly obese dogs.  There were a few key parts missing from this vampire movie like the blazing guns, huge explosions, fast cars (besides the Porsche), hot women, tight leather outfits, sun glasses, swords, dead bodies and bad language.. The movie did not even show any blood which is pretty lame for a vampire movie. That would be like watching gone in 60 seconds without any actual cars in the movie.. Just endless talk and no action.

 Since I still have your attention let me put out a question to you all… When did vampires go from being deadly, blood thirsty, tough-as-nails guys and smoking hot vampire girls in skin tight leather … to emotionally depressed, dull, boring, sappy, whiney, attention seeking losers whose apparent weakness is that their skin becomes shiny when they step out in daylight !!! I mean come on, Shiny sparkly skin … that’s what the sun does to these freaks … no burning fireballs, no explosions, no instant vaporization hell not even a spark … shiny f#$&@ skin. Now that’s something a regular oil control cream should take care off. Hmmm I’m thinking this could be a whole new market for cosmetic companies. How about this for starters:--

“Nivea for Vampires - Oil control Moisturiser” with natural tanning elements. Now step out into the sun with confidence. Never will you be stared at again. Nivea for Vampires - Oil control Moisturiser gently removes the shiny ‘undead’ skin while coating the pores with natural pigment extracted from your latest victims. Never has vampire skin looked so human. Try it today and take the ten day challenge. If you don’t see results then drop into any one of our outlets and help yourself to our staff. This is a public service announcement.

In conclusion, while the actors in the movie may actually have some talent and probably look presentable in real life, their on-screen characters certainly do not deserve the hype. But then again I’m sure the demograph that this movie is directed at will not take to kindly to the likes of the Blade or Underworld series. It all boils down to what you find entertaining … whether it be glorifying a strange obsessive and unhealthy sexual relationship in confusing times OR mindless violence being dished out by good looking people with deadly toys and killer punch lines … to each their own.

Have you ever been in a situation where half way through a conversation you realize you haven’t the faintest idea what the name of the person is you are talking to? Now, this happens to me at rather awkward events. This is the story of one such event.

I was just parking my car and walking towards a nearby coffee shop (side-note: its impossible to find parking at the place you need to be) when someone called out my name. Turning around I saw a young lady smiling and walking towards me. For a brief instant I felt quite pleased that I had parked where I did as it gave me a chance to meet this person. Then it hit me, I did not know who this person was. Compounding the matter, she seemed to know exactly who I was (the fact that she knew my name tipped me off) and she appeared genuinely pleased to see me. Now I did not want to ask her for an introduction and figured that I’d catch on once we started talking so I just played along. “O hi, how are you?” I asked, quite pleased with my confident approach.

Our conversation continued however much to my horror, I was nowhere closer to placing this stranger. I did not know her name nor did I know where I knew her from. It’s the worst of situations. See even if you don’t remember the person’s name but know where you know them from, you can still carry on a complete conversation built on historical commonalities. For example if I don’t know your name but know that we went to the same karate class (yes I said Karate not dance class so shove it) I’d say something along the lines of “so you still practicing those kicks” etc. But to not know anything about the person you are speaking to, especially if the person is an attractive member of the opposite sex, is a disastrous situation indeed.

Getting back to the story, only two minutes had passed since that first fateful hello, but to me it seemed like an eternity. Then an idea struck me like a bolt out of a clearly blank sky (read: mind).. “So you still in touch with anyone?” I asked. This should be helpful, but it wasn’t. She just rattled off a couple of names I did not recognize. So-and-so was married, so-and-so has had a kid, so-and-so bla bla bla. Then it got worse, much worse.. She asked me who all I was in touch with. Dammit my social engineering experiment failed me once again. It was time to get creative. I decided to drop names from various stages in my past. I spoke about the childhood friends I played with when I was 4, I spoke about my school friends (from both schools to be on the safe side), I talked about a few college friends and friends from work and a few from dance.. i mean karate class. While I thought back to see if I left anyone out she just looked at me like I was mental or something. Anyway, after a significantly long pause she said, “sorry but I don’t know any of those people”. Dammit not only had I wasted a serious amount of time and made a bit of an arse of myself, but I also managed to get nowhere in my quest of identifying the lady.

Thinking the day could not get more awkward I decided to leave and was about to turn when another voice called out my name. Looking back I saw another girl smiling and walking towards us. As you would have guessed, I did not recognize her either. Now there I was stuck between two attractive women and I had no idea who the hell they were. Did they know each other, am I expected to introduce them to each other, O God, am I expected to introduce them to each other!!! I pretended I had no manners and did not even make the slightest attempt at an introduction lest I get caught out on my ignorance.

At that point the second girl (named based on order of appearance) said she saw my profile on a popular social networking site (not sure if it was orkut or facebook – man I’m bad at names) and that she had sent me a friend request – which I subsequently rejected. Now I did not recall this but it seemed plausible as I tend to reject requests from people I don’t know (or in this case can’t remember). Deciding to use my smarts once more I said “perhaps you used a different name which I did not recognize, which name did you use in your profile”, ah ha this ought to work, now she will tell me her name and perhaps I’ll be that much closer to solving this mystery. Her response was simple, “I just used my name, nothing fancy”. Knowing that plan failed I shot back with – “perhaps you used someone else’s photo, like a celebrity of something and I did not see the name so rejected it”. ‘Nope, it was my photo only’, was the reply. Giving up I apologized and asked her to send it again. Now I had been nearly ten minutes since I stepped out of my car and I knew this was not working out so I bid adieu to the two ladies and started waking to the coffee shop, suddenly I turned to the two girls and said, O by the way, do you two know each other.. This was my masterstroke for now they would have to introduce themselves to each other I’ll finally know their names and hopefuls who they were…

The two girls just stopped and stared at each other, then at me. They had this look of amusement and bewilderment. Then it happened, they both spoke in unison. “Course we know each other, we are sisters”!! My jaw dropped.. There was no recovery.. Then one of them asked – you do know who we are right?, then the other – what’s my name?, then the first – what’s my name?.. At that point a middle-aged man approached the girls, thinking he was their father I said, hello uncle, how are you. The guy just stood there for a moment, then took the girls bags and put it in their car. The girls followed him but while entering the car one of the first girl said – by the way, he’s our driver”. Then they rolled up the window and drove off.

This incident happened a while ago but a certain cartoon strip sent to me by the girlfriend brought this back to mind. And here’s the cartoon credited to XKCD (http://xkcd.com/302/)

Men, much like myself often think that accompanying a girl to the lingerie section of a shop must be a world of fun. Now who amongst us has not snuck a quick peek into the lingerie section of a store while casually strolling past with a look of pronounced nonchalance?  … Fine just me then.. anyway, you ladies have to realize, the lingerie section is taboo for men. Its no mans land.. The lingerie section is like a clothing Shangri-La. You have all heard about it but very few men have actually ventured past its mythical shelves packed with unmentionables in strange shapes and sizes. The walls covered with posters that would make a boys hostel room blush and the strangest of all, staff that seem perfectly comfortable selling what can only be described as left over bits of fabric. Yes the lingerie section of a store is a strange place.

My store begins not so long ago when the girlfriend wanted to go shopping and seeing that I have a strong pair of hands, would make for a useful porter/hanger/shopping cart etc. decided to drag me along. Seeing as my other option was to just laze at home I chose to... well laze at home obviously. Unfortunately my get-up and go was triggered by the fact that my girlfriend has gained custody of my credit card and was quite capable of breaking the bank with it if not supervised. We (what I really mean is she) spent some (read: 3 hours) time selecting a few articles of clothing (read: over 15) and now needed to try them on to see which ‘All’ to buy. Here comes the interesting part, coz you see the store had two sets of changing rooms for ladies. One in the Indian ethnic section and the other … well you guessed it, in smack in the middle of the lingerie section. The reason I bring this up is that I was required to stand outside the changing room to (i) hold the bulk of the items while said girl was trying one on and (ii) to give my opining (however I feel the second point was probably mentioned to make me feel important as the girlfriend had all the opinion she needed in the form of a mirror).

As luck would have it, the ethnic section changing rooms were full so the other option was chosen. Hesitant at first I soon realized this was my chance to find out the goings on in this mysterious section. Filled with excitement (on the same level as Columbus probably felt while discovering a new and as yet untamed land) I entered the forbidden kingdom. No sooner had those thoughts formed in my mind when suddenly I went from an intrepid explorer to a shivering Guantanamo detainee. Gone were the images of supermodels in sexy underwear only to be replaced with middle-aged out of shape woman with disgusted looks of disapproval on their faces. By this time I was long abandoned by the girlfriend (who by now was happily trying out her new clothes that I would be buying for her) and I was left to fend for myself in this savage land I did not understand.

Let me draw you a picture. There I was, to my left a underwear clad mannequin propped up on a pedestal so its pelvic region is at shoulder level. To my right were the above mentioned ‘middle-aged’ woman with their disapproving looks of disgust at my presence there. In front of me was the changing room and behind me (to my horror) was a queue of woman waiting for the trial rooms to get free. Now it took me a while to realize that the ladies behind me thought I was in the queue as well and the fact that I was holding women’s clothes did not help any.  I just had no where to look dammit! Everywhere I turned I got unpleasant looks from woman in my line of sight (guess they thought I was some ladies-clothes wearing, lingerie section loitering sicko with nothing better to do.) I actually spent an unusually long time staring at my shoes, as it seemed the least ‘controversial’ direction to look at. It was then that a rather large lady was trying to cut the line and brushed against me. I don’t know why, perhaps it was the fear of being accused of some form of harassment, that I jumped to my left and nearly knocked the promiscuously dressed mannequin off her pedestal. Reflexes kicked in and I caught it before it fell. Unfortunately the position I ended up holding the mannequin was less than appropriate and it took me all of two seconds to realize this, unfortunately the damage was already done. Just then the girlfriend walked out of the trial room only to see her beloved boyfriend molesting an underwear clad mannequin while middle-aged woman ran for cover. Needless to say she found the entire episode more than a bit funny. I however  Iam scarred for life. Never, in the brief and colorful history that is my life (so far) have I transitioned from being titillated to publicly humiliated in such a short span of time.

My warning to all who have managed to read this and to those who decided to scroll over the actual story and skip right to the end – be very careful what you wish for.. they may actually come true.. and how!

Cheers

The mann-e-quen

(Name changed to reflect the gender of author, the act of carrying women’s clothing and obviously the mannequin itself)