It was a rather usual Friday nite in the town of bangsar, with the weather being generous to its pedestrians along the streets. Picture urself hvin a microscope, n u cud juz magnify towards a group of 3, rather or almost decent young gentlemen. At this point we wud realized tat they’r probably heading towards a party sumwhere at a nearby deli. I was one of them. So yes, we were heading for a party. Haha.
As we entered the restaurant, I stood stunned by it’s atmosphere, where colors of black and red complement each other with harmony. And the vibe was really sumtin to admire I muz say, ppl at diff tables, all mingling, laughin, or in fact, towards the back, getting wasted.
So we walked up to the reserved section, and as I expected, being 3 indian guys, we were late…very late. Almost everybody tat was invited, was done with their meals. However, the moment we were visible to them, the group practically juz stared at us. Then a rather immature voice broke the silence from the background. It was in fact, the bday boy. A rather short dark Indian chap, possibly the darkest Indian eva witnessed.
Bday boy: hey, hi, how r u? thanks for coming la dei…
Fren1: fine fine. Happy bday dei
Fren2: yea macha happy bday
Me: happy err belated bday….
Bday boy: come come, take a seat ppl, and order wat u like.
Well yes, if sum of u reading share the same mindset as me, wat he cud hv meant was “order wat u like, n I’ll pay”. Sorry folks. We’r Indians.he juz said “order wat u like” n tat significantly means sumtin else. Anyways. So we sit down with the group, introductions fill the air, as the 3 of us knew none of them who attended the party.
Fren1: dei macha, pass me the menu pls.
Fren2 passes the menu obviously. Juz moments after he opened the menu, he shrugs his shoulders, goes “hmmm” n puts the menu back down in dismay. Feeling rather queer abt wat juz happened, I asked;
Me: dei, y la?
Fren1: y u asking dei, the moment I opened the menu, the 1st dish itself cost Rm30. After tis we go mamak can ah?
Me and Fren2: Yes PLS!!
So as the nite went on, with the group exchanging jokes and comments, there was tis girl I noticed. She was rather attractive, as she wore a simple semi casual outfit, no big ass necklaces, no HUGE ass rings, basically, not much in the accessory department. But soo wat? Big deal. I noticed her hair was left untied, n she had her reading glasses on, BUT no book in her hands. Awesome. So like every other hormone raged single male, I scooted over to her n introduced myself. As I began getting to noe her, (her name was Shimmi), n I cudn’t help but notice tat she was checking sum other guy out at the table behind us. I felt rather foolish but stil kept my momentum going. Then suddenly, she shocks us by sayin;
Shimmi: tat guy’s really cute, is he from the middle east?
Juz after being shocked by the question, we turned over to observe, and well, he was sitting with another lady. With us being guys, the oni thing in our minds were “he’s with another lady over there, n y’s Shimmi stil looking at him”. The best we cud say was;
Fren1: yea think so.
From then on, I felt like I hv nothing to lose. So I decided to ask her sum questions regarding the perfect guy. C’mon girls, don deny it, u all hv tot abt it.n I’m hopelessly bored so y not. hehe.
Me: So Shimmi, tell me sumtin abt tat perfect guy u’d like to spend ur whole life wit.
She takes a sip of her drink n puts the glass back onto the table.
Shimmi: Wow, is tat wat u always ask girls u’ve juz met? –smiles cheekily-
Fren2: Juz think of us as frens u’ve known for a long long long time laa..
Pffftt yea rite…
Shimmi: haha.. in tat case…my perfect guy…hmmm…
Seriously, y pretend to think? U already hv it registered and programmed in ur head tat if any guy were to come up to u to ask u out, u’d probably juz say no. With tat I decided to give her a hand by asking her questions.
Me: okay, rich guy or average joe?
Shimmi: well obviously I’d like a rich guy laaa.. which girl wudn’t rite?
Me: Every day I get up and look through the Forbes list of the richest people in world. If I'm not there, I go to work. Sigh.
Fren2: hahah. Next question. Which line of work wud u like ur guy to b in?
Shimmi: hmmm I really dunno..sumtin tat earns a lot I suppose?
Me: dear, wat u need is an archaeologist.
Shimmi: huh?
Me: yea, cuz an archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have; the older she gets the more interested he is in her.
Shimmi: ……
Fren1: heheh. Okay wat abt tat skinny guy over there, wud u date him?
Shimmi: he’s too skinny laaa..
Me: don worry, once u get married to u, he’ll definitely put on weight, it comes with the package. But wat’s ur definition of marriage?
Shimmi: err…well it’s basically based on neva ending love, happiness, almost a completion to life itself. And ur definition? –smiles-
Me: sex,sex,sex, pregnant, kids,work, complain, argue, argue,fight, die.
Fren2:hahah! wat abt ur guy’s figure? Built, toned, skinny, fat?
Shimmi: well it doesn’t really matter la…cuz beauty is oni skin-deep. Nothing more, his personality is much important to me. Cuz it’s rather immature to hv such needs.
Me: u noe, I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want -- an adorable pancreas?
Fren2: hahah! In tat case, will u date the bday boy? I mean he’s very dark, short, but looks doesn’t matter rite? He’s been a gentlemen to u all nite. Personality is intact. Shud b fine rite?
Shimmi: ermm well he’s not my cup of tea laa..
Me: who’s asking u to look at the cup of tea wen there’s coffee, n it’s black! –pointing at the bday boy-
Me: u noe wat they say abt coffee, the richest coffee is the blackest coffee –winks-
Shimmi: ………..
A brief silence swept the floor.
A VICKSAMA ORIGINAL.
