Khakra

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

Getting real at the airport

The aspiring flautist playing looney tunes sitting opposite me was annoying. The guy was a shame to Indian Classsical music.

My moronic friend, who used his flute as an "ear cutting machine," made more interesting use of the wood. He'd flash his flute to his kids and shout "I'll use my ear cutting machine if you don't go to sleep." Scared, the noisy kids would scram to bed.

"When the kids mature and discover that Hariprasad played a flute, not an ear cutting machine, they will smash me with a dholak," he said.

I told you Hariprasad Dholakia was a moron.

The flautist attracted a fan following with his proud represention of India -- sitting in a yoga stance, his eyes closed in deep concentration, his sweet and soft Indian music. No dhoti, sorry. The problems started when he flauted his music.

He churned out one 2-second tune over and over again, with a million ragas thrown in. Was it Desh raga? Malhar? Raga Chandrakala that only baapu knows? Only my dad or siblings would know.

I was anyways annoyed as a desk attendant didn't upgrade me to an emergency exit aisle seat.

I launched a fake cough to break up his block party, but the musician got louder and louder with each cough. He won, and I took a hike, hitting the aisles of San Francisco airport alone. An isolated place on the edge seemed like a nice place to take refuge, but a fight broke out there.

"My dog has flown 50,000 miles, but I've never heard a complaint," a man said to a woman who objected to his dog sitting next to her.

"Well, there's always a first time," the woman told the man, who started walking away with his dog.

"I look forward to sitting next to you on the flight," the man retorted, with the frantic woman double-checking her boarding card's seat number. The indicator said the flight was headed to Kansas City -- she was up for a bad time on and after the flight.

Before the she spotted me and objected to sitting next to monkeys, I dashed into Terminal 2's Anchor Steam pub. A table I sat on had a view of a beautiful woman on a barstool, and she came in between me and a TV playing baseball.

When I started viewing the game, the woman turned sideways and gave me a dirty look to say she loved me, and in a split second, glanced back to the bar and continued guzzling her beer. She gave me that same dirty look every few seconds. I loved women who played dirty.

This dude's trying to make a pass at me, she thought.

I tried to be accomodating, changing the angles of my looks to the TV screen, but I just had to look above her. I couldn't help it. Why does an attractive woman always believe she is being checked out whenever a man looks at her?

She finally bottoms-upped her beer and walked out. The magic of my presence can be astounding.

As I downed a beer, I checked out the other attractive women in the bar. Soon, the time to board came and I walked to my gate.

There, the flautist was talking to his fans, trying to extol the virtues of Indian classical music. I wanted to contribute to the discussion, instead I chatted with a friend over the phone. She was blabbering on how I should limit my blabbering, which I will do right now.

One final note: It's cool to wear a tinted glass and observe an airport's colorful characters!

5 Comments:

Anonymous Downunder said...

Hello Mr India,

Want to humour me and write a post on the oppression of men by women in society?

I've asked a few men I know down in Oz but the response wasn't too overwhelming.

So if you have time, are interested and want to swing me a favour , can you list the ways in which you feel segregated and oppressed by women?

Oh and if you do come to oz next year let me know before hand and I'll show you around the state. :-)

10:29 PM  
Blogger Khakra said...

sorry downunder, can't help.. i'm a born-and-raised-in-US brand. But there is day known when the women in India whack men with sticks for all the suffering they got. Maybe it's misinformation I got. But it did sound funny. A -- is that you??

10:30 AM  
Blogger venus said...

tinted sunglasses is really sneaking on people while not letting them know, isn't it fun! Sometimes in my train ride, when I sit facing all the people in the first seat, i can see all the people facing me, and u have to play hide and seek if u get caught "observing" them.

oho mister, not every beautiful girl thinks that u are checking out her when u look at her! jaban samhal ke :)

12:00 PM  
Anonymous downunder said...

It doesn't matter where your from, its a global assignment!

The US is probably even better.

Of course its A :-p

8:04 PM  
Blogger Khakra said...

WHAT do women do then venus? Sing Chamma Chamma? Give them a flying kiss? It's time to revolt against hot women...tint em all :)

What makes the tinted glass game dangerous are a gal and guy playing with other: Looking, or looking not?

A-A-A!! take a hint from how my women! And hey, you've got your own test machine.. give it a shot! but if you're serious, i'll look into it. We'll chat soon...

8:26 PM  

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