Valentine’s day, chest hair and airline seat selection

I’d like very much to write about Valentines day and love (or the lack of it that is making me nearly insane) and all those other things that make you go “Awwwww”, but I am sure more than enough bloggers have written about it. If you do want to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, think of this really cute beagle puppy that’s so confused in life that it’s chasing its own tail. That did the trick for you??? No??? Did not work for me either…go figure! I would sincerely like to thank the Vaanar Senas for not doing anything violent this time around. There was one faction of the Vaanar Sena (I believe they were the chimps) that decided that they would record couples and put them on youtube to bring shame to the family. To them I say this, “DPS MMS”…thank you!

Anyway, I just got back from Mumbai. The last of all the very many weddings that I have had to attend. The Mumbai one was fun because I got to meet my gang from college and go back to acting like complete incorrigible morons that we were. ( I am a sophisticated moron otherwise) I am sure you’ve heard about the ‘Shave India’ marketing gimmick by Gillette to sell more razors. Am sure some high-paying MBA grad from a premier B-school came up with the idea based on extensive market research which comprised of 4 friends from the same batch, and their girlfriends,(cute accountant types from E&Y) who were at some pub in Bengaluru (before 11:30 PM of course). Anyway, coming back to the story…. One of the malls we walked into had one of these booths setup with young PUC type girls shaving men. Quite obviously, none of the men were there for the actual shave, but closest they would get to a woman touching them so close to Valentine’s day. (sorry for below-the-belt comment….but I know you liked it when she was putting foam on your face…che…dirty boy). Yours truly refused to get a shave from any of these women for the following reasons:

1. No way I am letting a woman with a blade so close to a jugular vein.

2. I have worked too hard to come up with my ‘Tony Stark’ beard look.

3. How else would I have new blog material….encouraged friend to go and get shaved though.

During one of the announcements, the girl yelled into the mic, “Come to our stall, we will shave anything”. Was I the only one thinking what I was thinking???? (You just went ‘Eeeeeeeewwwwwwww’). By the way, what I was thinking was on how to ensure this girl never ever shaves anyone again…including her own legs….maybe, even give up waxing and become a hippie chick. My plan – walk up to the booth, take off my shirt, show off proud-south Indian chest hair. I was planning on executing the same, but friend of mine refused to accept my bet as she did not want to have to peel those Gillette girls off me…you know what chest and facial hair on a fat dark south Indian man can do to a woman! We have this’ Marlon Brando meets James Dean’ type effect…..like Vadivelu.

Now that that is out of my system, let’s move on to the next piece of whining. Why are you airlines people so mean to me???? Really…why? Not once did you give me a seat next to a pretty eligible girl. Not once. While I do not understand this fixation of wanting to travel next to a pretty girl (Am guessing it comes from hoping that ‘Before Sunrise’ type romance happens) but it would be nice to put me next to one. When I was a toddler, you airlines people were more than happy to not only put me next to nice girls who mummy forced me to call ‘Didi’, but your air-hostesses thought I was the most adorable thing they had ever seen. Nice, fair,chubby,talkative kid who loves food…. nothing has changed, so why the sudden punishment?

Instead of asking me whether I want an aisle seat or a window seat….ask me who I want to sit next to. I’d definitely point out to that cute girl in the lemon green salwar with the John Lennon like glasses, reading that Daniel Steel novel standing two places ahead of me in the line who is so oblivious to everything and everyone around her that she so carelessly flicks her lovely jet black hair as they come in the way of her reading, shortly after which she pulls out an iphone 4 (this is where I fell in love…. Iphone 4, how can’t you?) to say, “Yah sweety! I’m in the line waiting to check in my bags! Come to the airport but 11:00 to pick me up! Bye…love you!” (This is where you hear the sound of glass cracking). Hey, Valentine ’s Day was close by….you can’t help but feel moderately romantic. But then…noooooo….you stupid airlines people had to put me next to the fat Gujju man who snored right through and thought the air hostess had asked him to donate a kidney when she said ‘Rs.120 for the Sandwich sir’. I have a feeling this conspiracy goes all the way to the top….it’s a scam bigger than CWG and 2G put together. Anyway, que sera sera….