Locked Out & Lack Of Clothes

Regular readers of my blog would know that a year or so ago, I had been given the rare distinction of being God’s yo-yo. Funny things kept happening to me, things that had no logical explanations. There was the time I managed to get trapped in an ATM vestibule and minutes later, a DHL courier fellow sniffed my butt. Then there was the time when a vengeful airport taxi driver sneakily followed me around town to beat me up. Or the time when an idiot almost forced me into the Idiots Club of India. I have gotten into the weirdest situations possible and for the more curious reader, here’s a ready reckoner of search results.

I’ve been careful with my life for a long time now and haven’t gotten into any embarrassing or potentially life-threatening situations of late. Last night, it all came rushing back. With interest.

I took a strange decision last evening to get ALL my clothes ironed. So, I emptied my wardrobe, dumped them all in a makeshift basket and took it down the road to the dry cleaner. If he was surprised at seeing underwear among the clothes, he didn’t show it. I then happily sauntered off to a mall nearby and started searching for donuts. I was told that a very popular donut chain was operating out of this mall, and I spent a long time hunting. I finally found the little shop and stood there in front of the lighted glass case, drooling and mesmerized at the sight of those sweet dollops of heaven arrayed in front of me. I went wild and ordered an assorted box of a dozen of their favorites and as I walked out of the mall, I thought the world was so beautiful and nothing could ever go wrong. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

It took me a good fifteen minutes to flag down an auto rickshaw  (I could never call it a tuk-tuk) and by the time we navigated through the inching traffic at nine in the night, and reached my dry cleaner, he had shut shop. For a second, I thought I was at the wrong place. After all, who closes down at nine in Mumbai, right? Well, turns out, this fellow does. So, I sat there in the rickshaw, stunned and wondering what to do. I got off and walked slowly back home, thinking of the consequences of the situation. No clothes to wear to work the next day. Forget that, no fresh clothes at all, except for a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt. I reached home troubled. According to the painted sign in front of the shutter, the dry cleaner’s operating hours started at 9 in the morning. I would have to go there and pick up my clothes early in the morning as soon as he opened, come back home, get changed and leave for work. It was a workable plan.

So, I calmed myself a bit and came home, dropped my donut box on the couch and went into my bedroom. Well, at least I tried to get into my bedroom. The door had one of those round knobs with a button on the inside to lock it when pulled shut. Unless I had a key, I couldn’t get into the room. Of course I didn’t have the key. I could feel a horrible cold hand creeping up my spine and my head felt the initial anxiety attacks of being bounced up and down on a cruel wire. I could hear God laughing his Evil laugh as he played with his favorite yo-yo.

I searched around for a locksmith and found one who was wrapping up for the night. In my broken Hindi, I convinced him to come home and open the lock for me and I don’t know how he did it, but he convinced me that it was a good idea to pay him double. Eventually, I got back into my bedroom at ten-thirty, was too tired and frustrated to eat more than three donuts and went to sleep as soon as I could.

I did get my clothes back this morning after waiting for an hour for the guy to open his shop and reached work a bit later than usual. I can’t help but feel a cold presence around me now, like a cold wire wrapped around me, waiting to be jerked up and down when He fancies. I shudder.

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Bigger! Badder! Stronger! Smellier!

returnFor the first time in its life, this website hid its face from the world for a few hours. MirrorCracked has always lived up to a rich legacy of smelly nonsense, guaranteed to make you smile and wrinkle your nose at the same time. And this time, I promise you more of the same, better packaged and bound to make you laugh so much that you’d cry. Well, I’ll try. 😀

The scientists at the MirrorCracked Labs have successfully installed a rotating  cleartext mutation string algorithm that churns out a password for the site every three minutes. Now, I don’t know what any of that means, but I found that phrase in a novel and thought it would be really cool to use it here to intimidate any professional hacker jobless enough to hack into my useless site and color my sidebar pink. Well, I’m sticking out my tongue at you, hacker!

Ive become quite paranoid all of a sudden. Just the other day, I snorted on my cup of hot coffee (in the makeshift coffee stand across the street from my office) when I overheard a couple of people plotting to kill me. Very covertly, I crushed the tiny plastic cup and bent down to dump it in the trash bin, and knelt down to tie my shoelaces, and listened to their conversation.

Killer 1: This fellow is irritating me.

Killer 2 (sporting a macho mustache): Yeah! Let’s get rid of him, once and for all!

Only when Killer 1 threw a stone at the ugly dog standing next to them did I realize that they weren’t talking about me. That was when I decided to learn some really nasty words to defend myself. For example, “I’m a black-belt in kicking your ass!” is something my younger brother once told me, and I’ve been using that line against a variety of opponents, both real and imaginary.

Anyway, I digress a lot. The main objective of this post was to announce that MirrorCracked just got bigger, badder and a whole lot funnier! I guess that’s my Christmas present to you all this year!

Okay, I’m kidding. About the Christmas presents, not the blog. You’ll all get free beer wine! 😀