RR-003: The Date

While getting ready for the evening's extravaganzas, my roommate suggested that we get some gifts for our companions for the party. From bouquets to momentos, everything was in, with flowers especially being the flavour of the evening.After arguing on what would be appropriate, assessing economic feasibility and ease of availability, we finally settled for chocolates. It didnt seem to be able to give them the possibility of either saying "bahut yaarana lagta hai" or "date pe aaye. woh bhi khaali haath".

By now the early jitters seemed to be settling a little. As the saying goes " after the first dip the water dosnt seem that cold anymore". The jitters were getting replaced by an excitement which seemed to be slowly building up. The stags (of which i was 'happily' not a part of now) helped by showing just the wee twinges of jealousy. Normal one would say, as whatever the cons, a guy with a date was always one (if not many) up on one who didnt ( not taking unusual sexual orientations into consideration over here).

So, on the pre-appointed hour, I arrived..........only to join the vast multitude who had also arrived at their pre appointed hours. So to pass the time we exchanged notes and confidence boosters and finally just as I was wondering if this was a case of the bride and the altar she arrived !!! I dutifully handed over the chocolates and got a warm thank you in return. Chatting on some trivial topics we finally reached our mode of transportation. Let me clarify that this was the bus hired out by the college before any grandiose thoughts spring to mind.

Just as we settled down, a couple joined us across the aisle. The lady in question was introduced as her sister and the gentleman a friend. Well, even I was a bit tense about the date, but bringing chaperones (and would one of them do?...........most definitely not!!!) seemed to be going a bit far. Bring em on I thought, ever the optimist. And they literally did. All three seemed to be from Bongland. They seemed to have graduated from two of the most elite colleges around and inevitably a debate on which one was better started. What did I do? I listened.

After not an inconsiderable amount of time of who was better getting blasted into my ears from opposite directions, so that it almost spouted out of my nose, she realised that something was amiss. "I hope you are not getting bored, but we are from rival colleges" the lady said. I would never have guessed that by myself now would I? " Not at all" I said trying to be my gallant best. It is sometimes better not doing so as I was to realise over the next few moments when the attention shifted to me.

Tell me about yourself, what are your hobbies?, why MBA?.......................and here I thought I was past the interview stage. Suddenly, as my answers seemed to be meandering and her questions losing direction, there came the sucker punch " tell me five nice things about myself". Im not often caught at a loss for words but this was surely one of those. To put it succintly, I went blank. So I blabbed about her enthusiasm, debate skills and bubbly nature (cross my soul)and gave her my most winning smile hoping for a reprieve. She said "tell me more". Ah well, "when you do the thing you fear, you fear it no more". So I said that she was the most beautiful girl on campus and heaved a sigh. One couldnt ask for more could one?

Wrong. Behind that rather robust figure there lay a razor sharp mind. " Pray tell me dear fellow, why didnt you ask me out till the last possible moment then?" she said. She would have made the KGB, Gestapo and MI5 all proud. Perry Mason would have his hat off to her. I made an excuse about having two left feet and thus not wanting to ruin her evening making me hesitate till the end ( not bad for a spur of the moment one I thought). And then I dealt myself sucker punch number two. I guess those who have the FITM (Foot in the Mouth) syndrome would identify with me but it always seems to crop up at the wrong time. Not that I know a right time for it. But seeing the one way flow of traffic made me venture out a question of my own. I asked her about her hobbies. Among others she mentioned cooking as one of them And so, connecting staying in Bongland with Bong colleges and Bong friends, I uttered " Bongs are usually good cooks". She sat up straight, her back went rigid and with flashing eyes she said " What the f***. Im a Marwadi. Now I knew I was beyond the point of no return.

Now I dont know if I have made it clear but the two left feet syndrome was indeed a real one, thus forming a great reason for me not wanting to embarass myself by taking a date to the party, but now that moment I dreaded had finally come.

Oh well. We all have to face our waterloo sometime I guess. But just as we entered the party, she started greeting everybody like long lost friends (funny as I dont remember the ride to be that long) and I needed a drink badly after the ordeal. So off I headed towards the refreshments and "down the hatch it went with a hey nonny nonny and a hot cha cha". Fermented potatoes had never tasted better. By the time I got back, to the dance floor, feeling a bit more fortified ( a couple of the best ones help not only loosen tongues as per popular belief but the legs also). Seeing the lady occupied in doing the salsa with some poor soul, I got busy stepping on the toes of all those within reach with great gusto. Fortunately for the rest of the dance floor Im not too much into high heels or there actually might have been blood on the dance floor.

Another coupla jolly ones makes one forget the rest in a kinda mist and so after some time I was vaguely aware of someone shaking me vigorously. I didnt particularly recognise her but she directed me towards my erstwile date. She was sitting disconsolately in a corner and feeling that she really didnt know me well enough if she missed my dancing so much I proceeded to elicit the where, why and how from her. Apparently some idiot had stamped on her foot and broken her sandal (God bless his soul) and someone else had her elbow bludegeon into her resulting in a loss of her lenses. She regrettably informed me that she would not be able to dance with me and apologised for ruining my evening ( yippie).

So with a song in my heart and a tear in my eye I bid her adieu, and have lived to tell the tale.

PS:
To my date that nite: If you ever read this, its all in good humour. I think the very fact that I remember the details are a testimony to that.

To the others: Im not a mean guy or a sadist or a chauvinist. I just got a weird sense of humour I guess.