Boundaries are Four-Play

Now that I have come to the crossroads of my life, the point where I am to decide whether I should go to college, get ragged, do drugs, get laid or just stay a bum, get ragged, do drugs, get high and pretend I got laid, I think I now know the answer - long chins are way better than no chins at all!

Yesterday, we were visited by my cousin, let's call him Ronnie. Let's assume he finally got a job and came to Kolkata to meet the relatives and ask them to shower him with blessings so that he may....umm, well don't know what he can do. Not like he's qualified for the olympics. It's a job! You get royally fucked up your creek till your eyes pop out, your co-workers are assholes, your boss is a son-of-a-bitch whose arthiritis and gonorrhea are just good enough to pile his work on you but not bad enough for him to die, and just when you feel you've had enough, you get a hike. A hike is like lube that's gently applied in generous amounts so that you can brace yourself to get fucked some more. Anyway, why assume he got a job? Cause' I'm not really sure, but hey it's been 18 years since I gave a shit! Now Ronnie is the kind of guy who's always ingratiating, always cheerfully laughing at the stupidest jokes, always expecting you to do the same, always claiming he's the one to who discovered the cure to cancer and ripped the balls of Cereberus. Ordinarily, I tend to avoid these kind of people as they have a natural knack of getting on my nerves. However, this situation was unavoidable because my father suddenly realised that the only thing that can fulfill his life now is buying a tiny little flat on the outskirts of Bombay( and a tiny little car where he can barely fit his ass in.....an alto should never be purchased by anyone who's remotely near six feet or weighing 105 Kg.....my dad is both...and more, yet he finds it exhilirating to be cramped in the smallest space ever devoted to cars), Ronnie's dad being our only living relative to be living in Bombay, dad naturally rediscovered his love for recently discovered relations that recently shifted to a city which my dad has recently discovered his life is incomplete without. Confusing? All you need to understand is that Ronnie is a prick!

Despite my abhorrence of Ronnie, I did not fail to notice that he bears an uncanny resemblance to Fido - the guy on the 7 up bottle who's seen surfing the waves and pulling the bikini off Mallika Sherawat. I seriously doubt Ronnie could pull off a 7 up bottle cap on his own, let alone Mallika Sherawat's bikini, but the incredibly long chin and long curly hair of his makes him the missing link to a cartoon's development into a well-evolved human being. In addition, he also has this weird chuckling laugh and an irritating habit of nodding his head( that looks like one of those tweey birds on a spring on the dashboard of a car that shoots up and down uncontrollably when the car hits a bump). Seeing my dad sitting beside him at the table in Silver Oak was quite baffling. By no strecth of imaginations did they look even remotely related. My dad is tall, obese, chinless and bald. This guy was not so tall, scrawny, with a distinct chin( which if developed to such an extent in lower forms of life might even serve as reproductive organs) and with wiry, long hair. Despite the fact that these two probably looked like the worst pair present there, no one seemed to notice. The place was packed, being a Sunday night and we had to wait in line (sheesh) for about half an hour before a table was available. I tried to explain to my dad that it made way more sense to drive down to some other restaurant rather than wait for half an hour for chow. But my dad was adamant. So there he stood, huffing and puffing and sweating, stomach growling. His face was as red as a tomato( he goes really red when he's angry). When the waiter finally came to inform us that out table was ready, the relief on his face looked orgasmic. ( Wow! I never thought I'd ever use that term when talking about my dad). The relief, however, was short-lived. The table turned out to be a two-seater with an extra mat crammed in and it was doubtful if anyone had cleaned it for the past few hours. Well, the waiter really got it. My father, when hungry, is not a pleasant person.....which is not so good for me as he's always hungry.

The food, unexpectedly was good. By the luck I had lived that day, I half expected to find a cockroach leg in my soup - I was expecting it to the point that I started searching for it as soon as it was laid in front of me - I swear, if I had found one I would have hopped on my chair and waving it in concentric circles, shouted Woohoo! The other customers around us kept glancing over suspiciously at us. It was a while before I realsied they were actually looking at me. It was another little while before I realised why. A "Boundaries are Fourplay" t- shirt and shorts are not the kind of clothes people wear to a classy restaurant. But then again, a classy restaurant doesn't have roach legs in the soup. Or does it? I decided to occupy myself by glaring back at those judging farts who kept giving me the stink eye! It became a competition. Who could stare longer. Eventually, all of them got embarassed and turned their eyes back to their food, whispering something sly to their wives or granddaughters or mistresses, who then proceeded to give me the stink eye and eventually gave up, and whispered somethign sly back to their husbands or grandfathers or bosses. Hah! I stood the undisputed champion at this little game till I was beaten by this old myopeic saggy-chinned old man who kept wincing, yet staring back for about 3 minutes before I finally gave up. He stared on for another 3 minutes before I realised he was looking behind me at the lamp post, probably wondering if the long skinny thing with the black cloth around it was the waiter. I took the liberty of calling the waiter for him before he finally tore himself away from it.

The bill came to a whopping amount and they sneakily tried to slip us a torn 20 buck note as change. My dad pocketed the rest of the money with a sly wink and left the torn 20 buck note as tip. Too can play at that game! Or is it two? Ronnie sat beside us, chuckling gleefully. I desperatley wanetd to smash his idiotic face in, but I feared he might have some kind of secret weapon hidden beneath his chin. You never know who is a secret agent for the government nowadays! Johnny English changed it all.

He returned today, bidding us goodbye with a customary nod( nods) of his head. Strangely I didn't feel as angry at him yesterday as I do today! Maybe it's the fact that my exams start tomorrow! IIT BABY! YIPPIE! I have a foolproof plan - I shall mark all the 'a' options in the first paper and all the 'b' options in the second paper! Why A,B? Simple, they're my initials! If this works, there may yet be hope for all us idiots out here. Let the world know that A.B. is the solution to this I, I Trash!