Yessir, You, in the Honda Accord, on Tarnaka road, yes. Please don’t spit on the road. Just because you are at a signal doesn’t mean you have to use the stop for opening the door of your big car, pushing your big sunglasses over your head, and then, ahem, spit. Trust me, it’s disgusting, and really fuels my violent streak, which might actually make me get off the bus, grab you by your hair, and rub your face over the puddle of phlegm you are leaving behind. Really. Please don’t do it again.
Oh, and you, yes-yes, remember, we met in the elevator at work today? You have conjunctivitis, is it? Huh? Poor you. No? The why were you wearing those sunglasses inside? Lights too bright? Ok, Ok, I know you spent a lot of money on them, but it’s ok to take them off when you are in there, you know. And in malls. Oh, and in cinema halls too! And oh, please don’t mind, but having them on top of your head the whole day is not so cool either. I mean, you know you are not leaving this building for another 9 hours atleast, so you can actually take them off? No-no, no force, just a suggestion.
And sir you, on the phone? I know you had fun at the party last night, but I really don’t want to know the details. I am trying hard to get these two excel sheets to match, and it is tough job you know, they are 30mb files and all, take an hour to even open. And all your chatter is just too distracting. Actually, the floor is not reallymeant for telephone conversations, could you step out? Oh, if I may mention, it’s been like 30 minutes since you stepped out of the conference room, don’t you think its time you get back?
Ah, and you, we have travelled by the same cab a lot, how can I forget you? I know you mean public service when you switch on the music on your mobile inside the cab. But see, I am very picky. About the music and the sound quality, and you know those speakers on the phone aren’t really happening. As for the music, I know you are playing English numbers to look cool and all, but Backstreet boys and Britney Spears? Even I, with my limited knowledge of phoren music, cannot forgive you for that! So, plug in those earphones. Now.
And dear neighbour lady, coming to you. When you reached the elevator, there were already 6 people in it, no? And that’s the maximum it can carry. So how does it make sense to open the door, call your husband and kid, glare at all of us, go ‘Tch, how do we get in now?’ and then after 5 whole minutes of contemplation finally decide to let us go, all the while looking extremely bugged? We got in before you no? So we get to go first, it’s only fair I think. And also, it’s just a matter of another few minutes. Which by the way, would have been slightly lesser if not for all that drama from you. Right?
Lastly you, dear lady with the kid in the movie hall. I like kids I swear. I think they are the cutest, and even crying kids don’t bother me much, because that’s a given, kids cry. But bringing the tiny thing to a movie like ‘Mummy III’ or ‘Journey to the centre of the earth’ is not the smartest thing to do. You see, these kind of movies have loud noises, and scary faces, and gigantic dinosaurs and yetis and what not. They are bound to make the child cry; hell they made me cry (for totally different reasons though). Take them to Kung Fu Panda instead, and I won’t get bugged even if the kid names every animal on screen and then proceeds to spell it in the loudest tones during the movie. It is after all more of his movie than mine, and I accept that. Totally fair, I am, really.
That’s it, I am done. And no offence to anybody. Just that we couldn’t talk then. So, I thought I would let you know this way. More polite, and of course, much easier. Right?
So, till we meet yet again,
An extremely bugged, ME.