begin flashback
saturday, 5-Mar-05
3:00 pm: call sheetal. busy. repeat.
3:10 pm: call sheetal. busy. change strategy. call sheetal's cell. this number does not exist. strange.
3:15 pm: call sheetal's cell. from *my* cell. riiiiiiiiiiiiing. woohoo! sheetal? ummmm. (holy crap!) shweta?!!! got the wrong un.
3:20 pm: call *sheetal*'s cell. riiiiiiiiiiing. riiiiiiiiiiing. riiiiiiiiiiing. riiiiiiiiiiing. busy. (what the hell?!!!)
3:30 pm: one last try. sheetal? (aha! she can't ignore me forever!) movie? which one? aviator. umm... ahh... well, ok. in 15 min? sure. btw, it's sold out. but we'll try anyway.
4:00 pm: the *only* multiplex in town is bursting at its seams. (holy crap.) no line at the ticket counter. ignore facts. go to the counter. excuse me? do u have tickets to the aviator? for the next show? no madam. (isn't it obvious, dumbass?) one final desperate move. do u have tickets to *anything*? NO. (now get out of my face.)
5:00 pm: finished window shopping. on the way back. extremely unhappy. all that hard work. no fruit.
5:15 pm: see favorite coffee shop on the other side of the road. don't want to make one big circle to get there. look for a spot to park so we can just cross over to the other side. see a big fat 'no parking' sign. in no mood to give up coffee for lack of a stupid parking spot. park anyway. risk life to cross road. get to the other side. get coffee. click pictures of sheetal's new hairdo. get as many angles as possible so friends far away can get a complete picture of new look. satisfaction. finally.
finish coffee. no car in sight.
5:45 pm: dude, where's my car?!
end flashback
sheetal seems to know. but she wishes not to tell. an autowallah is more forthcoming. 'aapki gaadi dhoondhre? traffic wale leke gaye'. (smug bastard.) tells us where to find it. refuses to take us there though. (smug bastard.)
so we go off on a car finding mission. some friendly police wallahs use their walkie talkie to confirm that it was indeed the traffic police that got my car. (and not *horror*, thieves.) point us to another cop. who's busy directing traffic at a very busy intersection. we risk our lives again. enter the intersection on foot. *shudder*. sheetal goes, 'bhai saab, traffic police hamari gaadi leke gaye. kahan pe milegi?' he points us to the car!!!!!!!!!!!!! there it was, gleaming in the sun. the poor baby was towed two miles from where i parked it. but it seemed ok. we rushed to its side. completely ignored traffic this time. very dramatic.
think that's enuf words for now. here's what happened next.
friendly cop leaves busy intersection to take shackles off poor car. obviously very exciting stuff for some people (other than me).
edit: i took off the other pics 'coz i'm super paranoid yaar. and now i don't feel like completing the story. so this is how it will be.
4 comments:
He he, good fun, wannit?
But I protest about that camera crack - who took that masterpiece of you coughing up the 350 bucks?
And have you measured the headroom on the pic you took of me at Bhoopal Chambers?
Glass houses, pilla, glass houses.
Let's take another look at this picture.
Exhibit A:The jewellery wearing gentleman to your right is not only putting unnecessary strain on his poor bike seat, he's wearing flip flops to ride his motorcyle.
Exhibit B:The confused dude directly behind you is wearing a Soviet card in his front pocket.
Verdict? I think there's more going on here than just a parking ticket.
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