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It was one of those days I walked in slightly drunk, smelling a bit of tobacco, to find my parents waiting for me to interpret a deed for them. The usual story, shift from my “fine I shall move on” mood to, “let me interpret this shit for you” mood. Two cocktails never did anything much to me, never will I believe. And stupid music and staying out only brought back memories of him. The man I thought I had left behind, the one who I left well inside his apartment, when I walked out of the place was back in my mind, fumbling around in all his awkwardness.

To top it off, the damn place had to remind me of the man I once called husband. Probably cause  the last time I was there,  I was with him. He had decided to come to ensure some guy was not going to make a move on me. Fat chance of course, but yes, that was the last time I was on that balcony listening to music. It was a weird feeling, because the other just reminded me a lot of the man I married, divorced and never saw for over two years. Was it me, or was it that they were actually having similar traits? One writes, the other scripts. Maybe some form of similarity there, or I just have issues like a third person points out. “You look disturbed, as if some really bad wounds of the past have resurfaced!”

I wanted to ask him “you think?” but I was just a little too tired to pursue that conversation. His humour made me laugh only when in bed, and that too not at frequent intervals. However I like his theory of setting the bar so low, that women would not expect much of him. He tells me to write about things that I have no issues with, cause according to him, I have a ticking list, using which I would check whether the man I am with would fit into that box I deem to be the appropriate partner. “Did you wash your feet before getting into bed? Did you have a bath?” are claimed to be featured in the list. I shall also add to it, “thou shalt not have soap bubbles all over the bathroom walls”. It always baffles me how some people manage to achieve that, but then they do. The bathroom sure does end up looking like some soap bubble land, when they get out of it, and I end up almost breaking my neck slipping over them, and looking up again to notice the same damn bubbles.

Anyways, to keep things short, I have issues with unhygienic people, surely one cannot be blaming me for that?! If everyone kept their feet clean, I would not have to ask that question! Now, would I? I mean, WOULD I?

So yes, coming back to the point, I think I liked this man, not the one who told to my face I have issues when I am sure he has a ton of them too, but the one who is the  one who reminded me of the man I once called the husband. It’s sad how things get confusing in life, and people come to conclusions without reasons to substantiate them (Now tell me who does that? I can name a few of them though).

Have I ever mentioned how I need reasons for everything? Yea, add to that ticking list, “A man needs to be able to justify why he does what he does, or why he says what he says!” Can’t be too hard? Yes? No? Yes?


PS: The title has nothing to do with the content. It has a mere significance of keeping my word to the friend who provided me wonderful company, and to whom I said that my next blog post would be titled “The Orange Cab” on leaving the restaurant to find our “Orange Cab”.