by
door15
@ 2007-01-09 - 07:06:36 pm
DAY TWO:
“What’s the story? Morning glory?”
You know desperation can lead you to places where you ought never imagined yourself to be and it tends to make you do things you ought never thought you’d actually do. What am I talking about? Since, yesterday; after my horrific escape from the bronze haired girl, I’ve yet not put off the idea of joining a ridiculous club whose main aim is to well (bite me) : ‘Meet New People’. As if there weren’t many people around already! But some part of it (the club) sparks an oblivious interest in me which is hard to ignore. Call it the loser’s ball or whatever. An open mic event and club-organized parties does seem to impress me a bit. Besides, the whole point is meeting new people (girls, to be precise).
As I lazily slouched off the first quarter of the day waiting inside the bank to deposit some drafts. All I could do was to tolerate the unforgiving teller lady, who took every customer as if they were the ones who were responsible for ruining her life. That be done after she ruined my morning glory with her horrendous ways of doing things. I paced on my bike back to study abroad consultancy. There was nothing much to be done than the regular inquiry and the daily brain-wash the counselor gave. During all the talking, there on the side was this girl (gosh, don’t even remember her name). She sat there, her eyes wide listening to everything we were talking about and obviously understanding nothing. I figured that out, right from her face. She was new to this entire study abroad thing. Woohoo!! A study-abroad virgin. What more did I need?
By the looks of her, she definitely wasn’t from Kathmandu and how precise I was. The way she had dressed, the innocent look on her face and her over-friendliness all proved she wasn’t from my city (Kathmandu). Yeah, girls here tend to be a bit gaudy, are obsessed with themselves and (I don’t know how) always have a boy-friend lying around. It’s as if the girls ratio has decreased in my city to such a point where every girls has either a boy-friend or are the ones with a string of “A” and perfect SAT scores (Duh! The ones who you forced yourself to talk to, just so that you could take her notes??!!).
So, this girl, she had a cute round face, was wearing a multi-coloured scarf, medium-length black hair and all amazed by how much familiar I was with the “application” stuff. Sure enough, at one point the counselor went for his lunch and I had my chance to unravel the painful world of ‘application process’ to our very own “study-abroad virgin”. She was a good listener, yeah like yesterday. Her nails were perfect (no nail-polish), if you were wondering, after reading about yesterday’s frightful event. So, it was good. I was the Mr. Knowledgeable and she was the extra curious girl from Pokhara (yea, that’s where she’s from). Most of the time, I only talked of the whole process and there wasn’t any ‘real’ talk. But she seemed willing, none the less.
It’s a bit scary to ask a girl out straight away after you’ve met her for about half an hour, I figured and set my mind on returning home alone. Besides, it looks she’s just came to my city, she’s probably new to the crazy-desperate-Kathmandu-guys who ask you out as soon as you meet thing. So, I let her pass. The real conversation struck, when I was about to leave and for some reason, I did not. She was smiling; I guessed it was a sign. I yanked out my hand, announced my name (yea, we still hadn’t known each other’s name, and dammit I still can’t remember hers, what’s got into me?).
“I am *blah blah* by the way.” A standard, not too literary, not too shy, not too frank, not too weird, line which is more of a cliché. We shook hands, she told her name. And I started off with my first and quite audacious ‘real’ talk. I started off saying; you are not from Kathmandu I believe. And boy-oh-boy, Mr. Knowledgeable is Mr. Telepathy now. She said a certain area’s name and even if I knew where it was, I acted confused. Then began our talk. One after another and sure I had to bring my rambling of the vacation I had in Pokhara (her city) with quite a few exaggerations (I am being nice!)
I left off early. Courteously asked her if I could give her a lift in my bike, which as imagined, she sweetly and enthusiastically opposed, well, she’s still not used to sitting beside strange guys from strange cities in their strange bikes I believe. But she did give me a hit, we might hit it off if we met quite more than three times.
My mind frame worked, as I repeatedly forced myself to be patient. She’ll come around, am sure of that and so is she. Lets see what a second day following has to offer. As I wheel off in search of a damsel in distress whom I could miraculously save and in the process sweep her off her feet. Make her go head over heels for me and eventually have the honor to dump her after a big fight in the ice-cream parlor (Is that my desperation speaking??) Oh, yeah, almost forgot, I will be joining the Club after all.