Dilip hadn't done this in ages. And was understandably unsure of what he was supposed to be doing. He was about to go out on a date, and there he was standing in front of his mirror, wondering what he was doing in life. Probably not the correct thing to do at that very moment, he thought.
He was supposed to meet her in forty-five minutes at this cafe nearby, which was conveniently just about halfway from both their places. He was already late and he hadn't yet taken a shower after having played football with his friends, and was slowly realizing that the funky smell that was intensifying around him was actually coming from himself. 'This won't do', he thought, 'This won't do at all.' He looked at his watch: 28 minutes now.
He looked back at himself in mirror. He felt his chin, and stroked the scraggly stubble that was growing there. He had promised himself yesterday that the stubble would be shaved today. But did he really need to? He thought himself a man of his word, and told himself that if he didn't shave, his date would think he looked stupid. That should be good motivation, he thought.
Or was it?
Like, it's not even that much to be fair, he reasoned with himself. Maybe if he just made sure they were sitting in one of the darker corners of the cafe, things would be alright. His facial garden would remain obscure and who knows, his date might even see it as one of those cozy romantic things that people do. Total win-win situation.
Relying on the presence of dark corners at the cafe, Dilip walked past his shaving razor and into his shower, where a little under seven minutes were spent applying and rinsing off his preferred brand of shower gel. There was a brief but spirited performance of Bohemian Rhapsody as well, cut short by the glance that Dilip took at his clock. There were now just 19 minutes left.
If he didn't hurry now, he would be late for his date. It was time to go into overdrive.
Stepping out of the shower cubicle with his towel around his waist, Dilip proceeded to slip on a little bit of water that was there on the floor and fall on his bum.
Ouch, he thought.
He sat there for a minute, winded and sympathetic towards his bum. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Dilip?", called out a concerned voice.
"Yes, mom, I'm decent, you can enter."
Dilip's mother peeked inside and looked down at him in surprise.
"Why are you sitting there on the floor? Don't you have to go out in like 15 minutes?"
"I slipped. And yeah, although I think I'm running late." said Dilip, "What did you want?"
"What's the WiFi password? I can't remember."
"It's 23 potatoes with an underscore in between."
"Thanks. Now get up and go, don't make her wait.", said his mother and disappeared.
Hmm, thought Dilip. He looked at the watch and deduced that there were now 15 minutes to go. The painful bum incident had eaten away precious seconds. He needed to make up time, and fast.
Hmm indeed.
Dilip got up with the help of the guardrail on the side. He was pleasantly surprised. It was probably one of the only times he'd had a positive experience with it. He usually only bumped into it hard with his shoulder and cursed it profusely for a minute or so. "Only 80 year olds with back pain require a guardrail. Why do I need one?", he would say, "Stupid guardrail." He mentally noted down the usefulness of the thing. Guardrails were not to be taken lightly.
He walked out of his bathroom and stationed himself in front of his closet. What to wear??
Should he wear a shirt? Shirts were classic right?, he thought. Everybody likes them. He looked at his options. There was a pink one that he was fancying at that moment. He threw it over at his jeans that lay on his bed. Yep. Outfit decided.
He put on his pants as he looked at the clock once more: 9 minutes. With any luck, his date would run into some heavy traffic and be indisposed by it for a while. That would let him catch up. He prayed to the traffic gods for a second, before continuing onward toward his shelf of many things. He did his routine. He put on his watch first, followed by a quick comb of his hair, and ended with a little splash of perfume on his neck. Good stuff. He was making cracking progress.
He walked out of his room and to the door. Putting on his shoes, he called out to his mum, announcing that he was leaving. And then, with 3 minutes to spare, he left the house.
Comentarios