Friday, March 18, 2011

blue and breathless

"It needs to be F.U.N.N.Y !!" he bellowed , spit flying with every syllable he spelt out for my dimwitted ears.

 Suddenly , the humidity of the room has increased - there are sweat patches around his arm pits, and my neck feels hot from the stress. He is panting , slightly , with all the melodrama of having had to spell out funny for me . i want to bite the tip of my pen, but i was told , there are too many pen marks around my fingers anyway, and my face could do without the natural blue shade of ink.So I resist. I feel like twirling my hair around my finger - but I am sure, that this very generalised notion of feminine display would put him off even more. Sometimes, i am so sick of not knowing what gender i belong to . I mean , what the fuck - there is a limit to being considered androgynous - i have a vagina for god's sake . i have breasts - hello ? it would be nice to mark a domain for me. My fingers are itching for a cigarette - he would just stare at me while I smoked not letting me enjoy the high .And anyway, it is stupid to smoke infront of people - your private sin , when in public view becomes your ticket to  the moral damnation of a wannabe.

so I , take the pen , and in capital letters , put the word down - F.U.N.N.Y.  He is about to throw his hands in the air - spraying stray persipiration droplets around the room , all the while being converted to vapour in mid-air. I am crazy like that - i would like air to be perspiration free , thank you.

Just then , his phone vibrates louder than my roommats vibrater - it must be some girl for whom he applies deodrant. I must ask ma , why cant i get a guy to spray deodrant for me ? No honestly, my mother , has a unique way of simplifying all my problems to like two or three general problems with me - a.) appetite b.) lifestyle (smoking , and random drinking) c.) refusal to stop washing my hair on thursdays  and d.) my anti-social stance towards the world. I love her for over-simplifying my life. There should be more people like mothers in your life - they always know just what is wrong .

so as I try to breathe less and less, due to the fast vapourising male perspiration - i purposely look down . He is polite - she must be the kind who start a conversation with - "Daaarling !!" like some weird chain smoking white trash woman.

He , bangs the door , but only after he has triple underlined the word i scribbled in my notebook.
As he shags in the staff loo , i try to find out what in this world is possibly funny. This disgusting , bacteria-disease laden world.

I've had enough - i want to walk out , i want fresh air, fresher than atleast this scum's perpiration ridden air to breath. I can sense an adrenaline rush - i want to rebel.

She was escorted fifteen minutes later (after he had shagged his present shag ) - her face was blue , there was some three pens' worth ink in her system. She had , specifically used the new imported german pens , their seal unbroken to chew his shag's worth.

As he rolled her out of the room - he was in hysterics  . Turns out , when blue - she made quite a picture of the funny he had been asking for.

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