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Insanely Inane Thoughts

If fate doesn't make you laugh, you just don't get the joke.

An Afternoon At G's

"Chocolate or vanilla?", he asks.

The midday sun belts down on us and here he is, asking me which flavor of a cigar I would like.What makes it even more ironic is that I don't smoke.I look at Debo, incredulous, and tell him "What the fuck do I care?Vanilla, chocolate or shit-flavored, it's your choice."
"Hmmmm, but then the smoke should be the flavor you like", he says.
"You're trippin already, man."

He delibrates a lot; making me wonder if he has ever looked at a biochemistry book with such unwavering concentration.He zeroes in on Vanilla.

"Boss, give me Vanilla," and he hands over some money.

I buy some mint and that prompts Debo to buy some mint himself.At the rate at which we buy mint, the paan-walah must have been thinking that this was a new contraceptive method.

"Jaldi kar, those guys must be at G's already.".At the metnion of G's, Debo speeds up his purchase and we head off towards G's.G's is short for a joint we visit frequently; at every visit, we frequent a joint.

A cool breeze of air greets us as we make our way in the AC-section of G's.It's almost empty save a guy who is staring down furiously into his glass; perhaps hoping to find where his next lay is going to come from.

"And what is the meaning of life?", Andya asks me from behind.He had just emptied his bladder in anticipation of the fuel which will get him going again.
"Since you were so deep in thought, I thought you found out the answer to what the meaning of life was.Now if you move your ass to the table, we can get down to what we really came for instead of a discourse of life", he tells me while striding purposefully towards our table.
"Bastard," I say and smile.

There were six of us, including me, so we joined in two tables and sat right next to the AC.Debo was busy flaunting the cigar as if it were given to him personally by Fidel Castro.Others looked pointedly interested in the cigar until the waiter handed us the menu card.

"Vodka....Rum....60 ml neat....A pitcher of beer..ohh..two pitchers of beer...peanuts...paneer-chilly...kekda fry...", our voices merged as one as we rattled off our cardinal desires.

"And a bottle of Thums up with some ice by the side", I told the waiter just before he left.The others burst out laughing at this addition.

Yes, it's true.I don't do alcohol as well.Instead I pour some cola into a glass, pretend it's neat rum and go bottoms-up with the others.

"But the fucker does end up getting high on Thums up.Saala, in Khandala, all he had was apple juice and he was more high than any of us.How he does this is beyond me", Ashish tells the others.

"You guys don't know what getting high is.Arre, the other day, my friend had gone to a party and it seems he had a little more than he could handle.Within twenty minutes, he was up in the terrace sitting on top of the water tank.And then he sees something black on the otherside of the tank.He thought it was a crow and to make it go away, he threw his fucking cell-phone at it.Can you believe it?!?He throws a fucking cell-phone, a camere-phone, to be precise.But he denies being any part of this.Saala, Aubrey is also one gone-case", I tell them.

This cracks up Andya so bad that he starts laughing violently.Those who don't know Andya may mistake his laughter for a bout of fits because when he laughs laughs, he starts to bang the table and shake it real hard.And man, is it contagious.All of us burst out laughing.

At Andya or with Andya, we still don't know.

"Fuck men, where the hell is the beer?", Ashish says impatiently.Typically him, ready to booze anytime."Chill, brother.It'll be here shortly", Lamuk says as he lights up his smoke.Typically him, never flustered.And true to his word, the booze was here in no time.

Everybody held their glass of beer, or cola as in my case, with a growing sense of anticiaption."Cheers," we exclaimed and had our first sip.

"Did you guys know that this place used to be a gay pick-up joint?", I ask the others.Everyone looks at each other.Tony looks at Ashish and says slowly "Free tonight?".Ashish giggles like a girl and downs his beer."Beer beer, I want more beer."

Debo is looking zonked.He is staring into his empty glass and smiling."High already?", Andya asks him.Debo looks down at his pants and say "Not yet, my friend, not yet."Andya bursts out laughing yet again while Ashish runs off to relieve himself.

By now, everybody bar me had started smoking.Well, almost everybody.Antony was struggling to light his smoke as always.He has a very peculiar problem wherein his hands always start shaking no matter what he catches hold of.

We call him the passive jerker.

Lamuk decides to put an end to Antony's misery and lights up the smoke for him.

The air was swirling with smoke; our mind with delusions of grandeur.Thomas hadn't made his appearance back from the loo and Andya begins to pour himself a drink from an empty pitcher.When I point out to him that his pitcher is empty, he looks at me curiously and says, "Pitcher teri maa" and starts bellowing with laughter.

The lone ranger, who had been wondering where his next lay was going to come from, has had enough of us and leaves in a jiffy.He almost bangs into Ashish who was staggering back towards us singing himself silly.

I look upto Ashish and exclaim in wonder, "You're back pretty early.Did you fuckin' remember to pee for me?Saala, we thought that you had a contract with the BMC for supplying the whole of Bombay with water.What took you soo long?"

This prompts Lamuk to give his customary fake laugh at our senile jokes; he thinks we are stupid and what we think is none of your business.

Ashish slides into his seat while sinking his teeth into some sumptuous kekda fry and spits out some gibberish which was supposed to answer our queries.We have since then discovered that no matter what Ashish drinks, he always has to pee in excess of three minutes.

"Okay guys, now for the big thing," Debo says.We all look at Debo who rumages through his pants."Dude, we were just joking about the gay pick-up joint thing.Don't bother to show us your pick-up joint," I tell him.He looks at me as if I were some insignificant being and brings out his much vaunted cigar.Everyone applauds Debo as if he had just performed a David Blainesque feat.

He lights up the cigar and takes in a big puff.We then pass around the cigar with deference.Everyone seems content including the waiter who had just brought us our rather outrageous bill.

Payment's a bitch but then again you can't have a joint and smoke it too.Unless, of course, your name happens to be Marilyn Manson.
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