Sunday, May 25, 2008

mother is convinced the three mexican men who helped us move stole her precious sewing machine and four of her set of six wine glasses.

happy memorial day weekend! don't you love holidays that fall on mondays? i spent my saturday sleeping. like seriously all day i napped. sunday morning i hung out with gaysin in front of the couch watching ntdv. we watched yediyurappa do his thing. we laughed every time he said gornamint instead of government. i letched at sreenivasan jain. so hot!

the majority of my sunday afternoon i spent inside a car with aunty, gaysin and mother. we had to drive an hour away to find this church mother has to go to next week for a wedding. she's on a roll with the wedding invites. anyway she wanted to practice driving there so she doesn't get lost next week. a dry run if you will. have you heard of such a thing? and she does this a lot too. it's ridiculous especially when the destination is like an hour away. once we found the church she wanted to practice driving to the reception hall. i was like well you could always follow someone from the wedding to the reception but she insisted on completing the dry run so we just let her drive. did i mention she wont go above 30? and i'm not allowed to play music because it's distracting. oh and she does this thing where just when she's about to change lanes she will first move in the opposite direction almost like she's making space to do a u turn onto the next lane. it's fucking scary and it's hard when your mind is going 'holy crap lady wtf are you doing?' but all you're allowed to say is maaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! and it's even harder trying to stay calm when you're starving. also i'm somehow supposed to be able to read aloud the names of the roads for her miles before we even reach the lights. this is just in case it happens to be the road she needs to turn on. also she prefers to be on the lane she's going to turn from even if said turn is ten miles away.

as soon as we located the reception place i made her get in the passenger seat and then drove at record speed to the pakistani buffet place where i met a lady washing her feet in the sink. true story. there i was washing my hands and this woman rolls up her pyjama and proceeds to put her leg in the sink and starts washing it. i stared at her in the mirror. i couldn't take my eyes of her and then we had this awkward moment when we made eye contact in the mirror after which i did not look up again. i dried my hands and ran out before she tried to attack me with her drippy foot.

lunch time conversation was fascinating. gaysin was bitching about the service as usual. he wants to start some type of etiquette program for desi waiters where he will help them with their grammar and customer service skills. things like how to smile and bow and explain the various levels of spice to white people. also teach waiters what not to say thereby preventing a situation where the waiter might say "will you be taking sambhar?" and the white person misunderstands what he is saying and instead assumes he is talking about getting the sambhar to go. gaysin is determined there is a huge market for this. the sad part is his mother encourages him.

after lunch we went grocery shopping. i flirted with minor pakistani boy in cd shop. he gave me 50% off. ooh i can now listen to "happy in my hort, dil dance maare re" in my car. take that tgfi!

as we speak mother is drinking lassi made out of non fat yogurt and sweet and low. gaysin is drinking his chai and aunty is planning to cut open a poly mango and add salt, chilli powder, sugar and vinegar to it. i nodded enthusiastically until i heard the vinegar part.

15 comments:

unpredictable said...

Eh I like that happy in my hort song .. orre massssaalaa it is. :D

moody crab said...

somebody's trigger happy with the publish button on a late sunday evening.. :)

BTW, what do u mean by minor pakistani boy?
- they can get married as soon as they attain puberty
- age is not a consideration for participating in elections. u either vote for the general or vote for the general
- don't think they have strip clubs in pakistan
- and they don't consume alcohol anyway

so, isn't classifying pakistani citizens as minors and majors superfluous? :D

yes, i'm bored.. :(

i introduce ur blog to some of my colleagues n u have a small fan following.. :)

ggop said...

P,
I support gaysin in his idea. Tons of desi waiters need training. I guess it doesn't help that they don't get much in tips.
Or maybe they will get better tips if they take his course. :-)

rads said...

ROFL. Lovely raconte lady, just lovely :)

Anki said...

was missing this laughter

gornamint!
fabulous

Anonymous said...

ROFL@ sambar to go! Maybe gaysin has a point!

Anonymous said...

the lady could put her leg high up on the raised sink...wah,one dirty superwoman she is! :D

minor pakistani boy..you go girl!;)

i know where to move after graduation...! :D

Bikerdude said...

Heh@vinegar.

yeddy is having clipped mustass ok, so even if he says (or forms) gornamint, he will do it in style.

Epiphany said...

LOL...I love the Dil dance maare song!

Unknown said...

lucky you

i wish i had a car to listen to dil daance maare in
:)

??! said...

Attack of the surrealness - Part 64.

Was reading a bit in 'The Inheritance of Loss' about the behaviour of Indian waiters in Indian restaurants based abroad. And a few minutes later, read this. It's the aliens I tell you. They're manipulating us.

The blogroll change? Too funny.

CrazyDiamond said...

Did you know that my office restricts access to your blog...something on the lines of profanity/adult/vulgar material.
Please behave.

I'm with gaysin on his sambhar-confusion removing career path.

Anonymous said...

.....and she's back!!
Thanks, this was a real LOL post - I heart your family.... why you did not take brother also on dry run + lunch?

~vagabond~ said...

I am convinced the three mexican men who helped you move are the same three mexican men who helped me move. And now I'm missing an entire box. Hmph!

LOL real loudly @ the practice drive to the church..bwahahaha!

Anonymous said...

The lady washing her feet in the sink...ewness and all that! But where I grew up (in the Middle East), these women would do it all the time-irrespective of where they were. The parks, the five star hotels where they would come in spillage alert clothes and wham! lift-the-feet, wash and worse, if you throw dirty looks at them they yell back in Arabic and then walk out with a look like they just had a massive orgasm.