It's that time of the year again when two major sociocultural ( religious? ) festivals coincide at almost the same time triggering a massive exodus out of the major cities leaving it almost blissfully empty.
Or so I thought. Naively hoping that the coming Deeparaya festivities would leave the capital devoid of any signs of life, I happily agreed to meet up with Charming Calvin and our nomadic globe-trotting Jersey pal, Distinguished Drew, for an evening out. Those vague fantasies of audacious kampung brats busily blowing themselves to pieces with homemade DIY bamboo fireworks ( not your typical sweet, idealistic Petronas ad ) fizzled out just as quickly since trust me, everyone else and their Muslim / Hindu sistas are still busy gallivanting along the major arteries in the city picking up last-minute ketupats / murukkus.
Wasn't a waste going bumper-to-bumper though since I finally scored an introduction to one of Calvin's unholy trio of 'angels' - hereby dubbed the Crazy Calvinettes, comprising the likes of the Solicitor, Sandstone and Steel. Although he has met more than a couple of my friends, I haven't yet suggested meeting up with his convivial friends since... I'm bitterly antisocial in the first place, my schedule's always pretty tight and anyway Calvin's deathly afraid that I'll scare his meek friends off.
Ever the social creature, the Solicitor organized a fabulous soiree celebrating the B-day of their mutual friend and cordially extended an invite. Obviously Calvin must have finally realized that keeping the borderline psychotic, homely hideous elderly boyfriend safely hidden from the prying eyes of his trusted cronies just wasn't going to work forever. I have to go out and work after all.
Instinctively knowing that I'd probably make a desperate run for it if the number of hungry masses totaled more than a reasonable five, the poor man fudged a little.
Calvin : Umm... a few?
Paul : How many?
Calvin : Maybe five?
Paul : Seriously? Kinda sad. Including me, already two strangers at the party meaning only three of you at this party?
Calvin : Yeah, five. No more.
Wasn't fooled even a bit but I decided to play along. :) Fortunately I'd just finished a short lecture at work - albeit with white coat on so my shirt was mildly creased - so I hope I was still somewhat presentable. Hopefully the Solicitor & Co didn't think that Calvin had dragged me out of some pathetic Salvation Army loser boyfriends rejectbin.
Made me see the vast difference in social contacts that we have. In comparison to his serious, prim-mouthed ( certainly much less vulgar ) buds, my friends and I are unfortunately semi-slutty skanks and licentious adulteress whores. Can't even imagine my ISO and I tearfully discussing career woes when we're much too busy catching up with who exactly is sleeping with whom ( and who's cheating behind their backs too! )! Although swear words don't regularly pepper our daily conversation, for some reason nearly every other line is subtly laced with some scandalous innuendo, and that's only if we're not busy bitching about having some reprehensible cad ( whose hitherto secret love life has already been thoroughly dissected prior to the final execution ) forcibly strung up, tied and quartered. With his balls tacked up separately to the wall beside.
Yeah, we can be cruel sometimes.