Saturday, June 27, 2009

Driving Miss Daisy

My head's still heavy from the beers last night. I gulped down quite a few cans. Its almost 10 am today. Boy, trying to recap the events last night's not a gimme! Lets see...a normal Friday where you come to work and try fixing a few papers the local authorities still demand for want of efficiency.
You've got your pommie-girlfriend who's gonna go on a whirlwind tour around the country and show the world how much she loves and understands poverty, the environment and of course, all of god's billion creatures!
Or perhaps that is a state of my own corrupted mind. Yes its corrupted; its been bargained with and the devil owns it. I tried selling the soul but he said the supply far out-manoeuvres the demands~! There's a hartal in hell and even the devil's had enough.
So there i was, driving Ms Daisy around! What could i do but do the butler? We drove around and she shopped. She shopped and i drove. We go to Shop No* 7 (Lhatshog's the formal name but well, old, habits die slow). She's buying the goods she will need in the savage lands. I'm getting bored. I look around; i see shelves of commodities and i wonder "who needs them?"

I get to the door and watch the wheels go by. Its a slow gloomy Friday evening. My green hornet's parked by the wayside (i've gotta do the long-awaited revamp on the old machine i'm thinking). Then bang! The poor ol' wreck gets a smash from a passing new pony. The hitman and his accomplice are about to flee the scene (i can tell from the way he sped on and on). My instincts shout-out. The pony comes to a halt. I see a be-bespectacled-nervous young man. I start yelling at the guy. "Whats the matter with you?". Then i see an older gentleman. He's the editor of Bhutan Today. Turns out the young man is his reporter. Man this is awakard! I feel sorry for the young sucker but look at my hornet! Its hurt!

Miss Daisy comes out. She's none too pleased either. I settle the matter by telling the young honcho he's gotta drive it easy and get a license, get some practice and then hit the road.

Miss Daisy wants to buy some Bhutanese T-shirts. We go about town. She gets the dragon emblazoned flag of Bhutan. Its a cute shirt. Shopping done, we go for a ride. I take her on the road to Paro. Its a pleasant ride. For a change, our conversations are pleasant too. Somehow there's this strange feeling we both know each other so well that really, when the words do take shape and sound, its never a surprise as much as it is an authentication of how well we know each other. We know somewhere along the way we're gonna fight too.
You, see; Miss Daisy and i always fight.

The star-lit night and the bright side of the moon- a shapely crecent adorn the skies. Its celestial. I'm looking at Miss Daisy and really thinking out loud "i love her." Meanwhile she's talking non-stop. The words just pass me by as i watch her eyes, her lips, every line and cringe in her gesturing expressive face. Her hair's a bounce. A wavy bounce of CulmulusNimbus clouds. I'm thinking out loud again "Man i fcvked up!"

We drive back on a sour note. What was it? Vaguely it had to do something with her wanting to end it and me having none of it.
This relationship has reached its destination. Its a dead-end from here-on.

I drop her home and without as much as a "have a good trip tomorrow" i take off. You see, tomorrow, that's today, she's off to the badlands. I head back to town. My mates are in Benez. I do the beer. Its getting dreary here. Time's passing slow. Supe shows up. He's become aBrahmin! Head shaved and necked-tailed.

Harry calls me. Harry's always calling me. I love the guy but hate the fcvkin stupid foils he gets into. The latest being a theft he's not involved in. He's always involved in thefts he's not involved in. "Go figure" is the next statement T-shirt i'm gonna get him.

We go to Om. I'm already a couple of beers in. A quick scan around the bar-room produces the prey. Its the BO bunch at the corner. Thats Bhutan Observer for the uninitiated. The team's mostly girls. We worked together once upon a time when i was the news editor there and Supe was the in-house jester.
There's a new face amongst the lot. She's cute as a button. She slaps me on my knees as we talk. I like that. I ask her for a dance. She says the music is lame. I'm thinking its the same gimmick. Voila! A catchy beat picks up and she wants to dance. She wasn't bluffing.

We hit the floor. Her dancing leaves me breathless! Fvck me sideways and shub a bamboo pole up my arse! She's dancing like Shiva! She's dancing like Mr "It doesn't matter whether you are black or white and It doesn't matter whether you're dead or alive."
I'm flummoxed! I used to be quite a shaker myself but man! This girl takes the cake!

This is how i always fall in love. On the ride back home, i passed out waiting for Miss Daisy.
Ps: YourLustForLifeStartsRightNow!

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