This is what I have been upto of late. Covering concerts, checking out men dancing to Bollywood item numbers and being thought a pick up by some French bastards. The most taxing of all - catching up with a former crush and pretending nothing's on between us.
*Men dancing to item numbers for the ladies sounded tempting. I was
convinced it would be a night out ogling strippers. My fantasy never
came true. These were men dancing bare chested trying to imitate the
likes of Shahrukh, Salman and Hrithik. They were hopeless. Not only
because they didn't go the full way with the Full Monty act, but also
because they were pathetic dancers.
*I couldn't believe I was interviewing Engelbert Humperdinck (And
all the while I knew that he was dead). Anyways the interview happened to be a pleasure. The man had no hoity toityness about him. And his concert took me back me even more. I was not exactly dying with enthusiasm to attend it. But I was surprised to see that a 69-yr-old man could be so entertaining, that he could be so enjoyable. The old-world charm was infectious. And I was glad that I had gone after all.
*Now I know better than try to talk to weirdly dressed French guys. Even for a story. At a do I saw this guy in a flamboyant orange hat, nerdy glasses and natty suit. He looked quite like a strutting cockatoo as he went up and down about the whole place. You couldn't miss him. I couldn't. My next move was trying to talk to him since an extremely drunk PR woman kept saying he was some interior designer. What she didn't tell me was this: He was a nutcase.
When I first tried to get his attention, he swept past me royally. His friends turned to me. Now just a while back I had been casting admiring looks at one of them. He was quite a hottie. But the moment he brought his face inches close to mine and asked me: "What book are you reading? Is it a Bible?" I could have swatted his handsome face. Instead I had this saccharine sweet smile on my face: "Yeah I carry Bible to parties."
When I finally talked to Orange Hat, he had this eeky smile on his face. Putting his hands on my shoulder which next kept traversing the length of my spinal column for the duration of our talk, he said: "First lets have some dinner. Come, come." The moment I said I was from a newspaper everything changed magically. His response changed to: "Let me finish dinner." For the next few minutes, his friends (including the hottie) couldn't take their eyes off me and P (who was standing at some distance all the time). I guess they must have thought we were easy lays. Bastards.
*What is it about attraction that irks one so? I have been having some old turbulent feelings resurface after I met my former crush. He's come down from Princeton and is on his way to Calcutta even as I write. I might try to pretend that I want nothing from him, but the truth remains that I do. Depression's setting in real fast.