story

The one that got away

This is a re-telling of a traumatic experience

If you are faint of heart, please stop here

I don’t want to hurt you

“Golden Delight”

I lost a pizza to ants. She was a medium, topped with corn and chicken. I left her a little too late, out by the gate. By the time I got to her, she was covered in black. The harmless kind of ants, which is ironic because, they never hurt anyone but me. The whole bunch of them gathered around my toasted bread. I even got a discount on her. Wasted coupon, wasted dreams. Into the darkness I threw her, because I knew she was better off left for dead. I’m going to stop referring to the pizza as ‘her’. I think it’s getting weird, and I’m remembering scenes from the American Pie. So I left it there, for the ants and rats to consume to their satisfaction. With a heavy heart, I went back inside, and ate a home-cooked meal. Why? There is no why. There’s only butts. Big, round white butts.

This needs to change

I go to the hospital, I tell the receptionist I have a fever. She says the doctor I need to see won’t be in for another two hours. She says there’s nothing she can do. I didn’t want to waste time. I asked her if there’s anybody else I could talk to. She asks me to go to the medical officer. I go there, and I tell the damn officer the same thing. Medical officer gives me a piece of paper with a doctor’s name written on it (I’ve seen this type of shit go down in detective movies). I go to another reception, ask for the doctor. Consultation fee: 800Rs. Fuck. After paying, cashier asks me to go to yet another counter where they give you your ‘serial number’ which is your waiting list number. I go to the doctor’s room. I talked to a nurse, and confirmed my appointment. Hospital air conditioning was too cold. I get lunch. I come back. Doctor is late. I wait. Finally he arrives. He starts taking patients. I wait again. I get called. I turn into Mr. social. I comment on his professional looks. I try to make conversation. Nothing happens. He asks for blood pressure report. I don’t got no report. He says I should have done it before. No one one told me. I call the nurse. She checks my weight, blood pressure, asks me a few questions, I’m back to waiting. I see the doctor again. He asks me to do some tests. I go to the lab. They say I need to pay first. I go back to the reception. 3000 Rs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I do all the tests. I ask for the results. Results will take one day. I say fuck no. I need to see doctor today. They give me the results. I go back to the doctor. I wait again. I show him the results. Luckily, I just needed to take a few medicines. But this was just one day at the hospital. I forget I am living in 2019. We have software. A lot of this hospital shit CAN be integrated. It should be a lot easier.
All of this went down a few weeks ago. I am still recovering, but a lot better.

Sweat

I was at the grocery market today, when I saw a tall man wearing a robe walking towards me. He got uncomfortably close. The fact that he also looked like the Grim Reaper did not help the situation at all. Immediately, I did that thing that I do when I sense danger at close proximity. I made an educated guess of his body structure(without staring at him, because I’m not a creep), and devised a BKUCES(ball-kick and upper-cut cum exit-strategy). To my surprise, he came close to my ear and whispered, “do you want potatoes?”. I was a little relieved because I was expecting something along the lines of “drugs” or “illegal imported goods”. 

Me: No

Grim Reaper: They are really good

Me: There’s potatoes all over the place

Grim Reaper: Oh, ok.