Where The HELL Is The Loo?!!

And the clock did eventually strike 2:30. And I did run out of school. Although, after that Net-Bean episode things around me perked up a wee bit. Recess was fun, splurging Debby’s moola on iced tea and chocolat. An hour was then spent listening to the Suisse internationalite from Les Roches Universite which really, is a wonderful place to study in. And I’m really thinking now.

French after school, finally! It was fun again, I went through Stallion‘s iPod which proved to be quite a fruitful attempt at whatever the hell the effort was for.

Funny happening of the day # 1:

Picture it: Madame’s writing French verbes on the board. We’re all doodling them into our notebooks. I look up, and there’s this French guy who walks past the classroom into the reception area outside. “Did you see that French dude?” I ask Prithwiraj. “What, where!?” he asks, pretending to be as amused as me. “He just walked in!” I scream as much as my hushed voice allows me to.

“YEah! I did! Except he was dark and Bengali.” he ruins my moment. “Fine, don’t believe me.” and I turn to Rita and Natasha next, but they’re busy doing things to their notes. I keep looking, and the French guy, accompanied by the other dark guy, makes his way around the reception desk to go up the stairs to the theatre room and refreshment area. And my hyperactive self multiplies.

“Madame, madame!!” I shriek. She looks in a flurry. And then, I’m at a loss as to how to describe what I see, in French, before the guy walks away and people think I’m hallucinating again. So I tell her, “Uhh, Française.. Garçon, voilà!” And everyone howls with laughter, alerting the foreigner and making him stop and look. Because that meant, “French boy over there!” (roughly translated.)

Madame, switches to her silly scrunched up grin-ny countenance. “Non, non!” she says, “Garçon?! *laughs.* C’est hector Alexander Martinez! Bonjour, monsieur,” she looks at him with an apologetic smile. And everyone’s still howling with glee at my stupidity. Oh yes, every class, I provide entertainment and information alike.

So anyway, back to back classes: School, French, Accountancy. During the course of the day dear Sharkian, the kidneys resume filtering and osmosing at their own leisurely speed which at times can prove to be a real freakshow incident to my very own self. Because obviously, it’s not a play. No you cannot watch me writher in anguish either.

I’m done with Accounts by about seven. Jinx, there are these three new chink guys who’ve joined. And they’re really cute. Your kind 😛

So I go out, and by that time of the evening, I kinda really had to pee. I hate waiting for Smithers to get the car, and he’s always about three to seven minutes late. Which was a little too annoying today even though I can bear it on other days.

Because today, yeah you guessed right. My tummy was about to throw up.

So I walked. Because I thought if I kept on walking, that would help me to not jiggle. So I walked till the crossing and then came to a halt next to the tree where the car’s usually parked.

I turned around, and there was that decent looking fellow from class behind me. So I was all courteous and did the whole greeting thing, and walked on.

Funny happening of the day # 2:

But after I came to a halt, he stood next to me too. So I thought, maybe he’s here for transport or something. But he didn’t even have class that day! And he looked like he was on an evening stroll or something, with his earphones plugged in.

And then he started off with the polite conversation that leads to that one question that almost every guy wants to ask that girl. And I didn’t want that to happen, because really, as much as you think, I’m still not as attractive when my hair’s all out by the wind, and I had to freakin’ visit the loo and was in NO mood in causing rejection trauma to men at that point of time.

Tired, long, exhausting day, Sharkians.

But he went on and on. And he wasn’t moving. And I kept cursing the tree, Smithers, the car, the traffic, the dog on the other pavement, Monsieur Martinez, under my breath.

And when you have to really pee, you tend to move and get very restless. I wasn’t even asking him anything back, I quit being polite. I wasn’t interested.

*WHERE WAS SMITHERS?!* *Does whatever part of the Mata-Hari jig that’s possible on the street.*

“Why are you tapping your foot?” he asked. “Oh, heh. I’m singing a song to myself, I tend to go crazy.” I said, to jerk him off.

Finally, he swerves the car with a complete graphical ogive-ish curve.

Oh, when you’re in such a bad state of mind and matter, things to comprehend and follow:

  • Make sure the car doesn’t go over a bumper. Bumpers cause your tummy to wiggle. Thus, well, you know the rest ..
  • Make sure you’re listening to something fast paced in the car.
  • Make sure that fast-paced thing equals the Infected Mushrooms’ Becoming Insane.
  • Make sure you go completely wild, try air-drumming.
  • Just DISTRACT yourself.

And then run like the wind, or faster, when you reach home.

x EdgyShark x


About edgyshark


Posted on September 11, 2009, in Existence and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.


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