Thursday, July 30, 2009

Of Smoke Signals

I was out today buying my grandma's monthly rations. While shopping at one particular shop, I was approached by a hefty looking university student dressed in black. He happened to be releasing some really nasty fumes (kinda like smoke and sweat.) Not wanting to stand there much longer, I moved away from the aisle. He followed me, and this conversation took place.

Smelly Guy: Excuse me?
Me: *trying not to breathe* Hmmm?
S.G: Hello, sir. Kiya aap cigar-et peetey hain?

-- Okay, pause. WTF is cigar-et? I swear that was the actual pronunciation. --

Me: *smiling* I'm not fond of dying a slow and painful death... are you?

And I walked off.

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Okay, so I'm usually not that mean. But dude, if you're reading this, invest in some deo and some air-freshener. My eyes were burning.

And I'm starting work on that post I promised.

1 comment :

Still Waters said...

xD
You should try travelling by the Ladies Compartment during rush hour.
Women are apparently not as hygienic as I've been brought up to believe.