I'm a retailer's dream!

It's that time of the month. Well, not "that" time of the month..thankfully! I'd probably faint every few weeks if that ever happened, what with my phobia for the red stuff and all. Sometimes when I look at the PMSing women I know, I'm reminded of the old Jewish prayer "Blessed are you Hashem, who has not made me a woman" (OK, so PLEASE don't engage me in a discussion of how this is a good thing cause men are thankful they are men so they have MORE mitzvot to perform....).

What time do I mean? Oh, shopping time! The beginning of the month, when I get that happy SMS from my bank saying my salary is in and awaits my grubby touch. This month, thanks to a couple of judicious stock sales (Yes, the Vikster is getting more concious of his finances now that he's what...only 29 years away from retirement), I find myself with far more money in hand (or in giant box with lots of buttons) as compared to genteel poverty-stricken months passed. How much money, I hear the masses ask. Ah, a gentleman doesn't tell you that...however much he may "kiss and tell".

*short break as I try to digest the fact I just called myself a gentleman..I mean the only thing "upper-crust" about me are the boogers in my eyes the first thing in the morning*

Anyway, along with my new Meenu (for shopping purposes only, so you can breathe again Meenu!) Ami, I went along on a shopping expedition through Bandra in the middle of the workday. Of course, I failed to realize it's now the middle of the blazin' summer in Bombay..so to the despair of Konkani ammas everywhere, I have to inform y'all that I am now 2 shades darker. Certain people I know (I'm looking at you Canadia-mundas) will fail to see the point, but the vast majority of you Fair and Handsome wallahs - I hear you clucking in sympathy already. I think I might have to give the ol' sunscreen a go...much as I hate the coconutty smell..I smell like a Lola Kutty (Or should that be a Baby Jose Verghese) when I slather it on.

Trudged all over Linking Road looking for "the" perfect pair of jeans..I thought I'd found it at Kink at Waterfield Road, but I (along with Ami) was distracted by an incredibly hot guy with an incredibly hot girlfriend trying out jeans. How hot, I hear Vij ask. Well, lets just say, so hot, that I couldn't even concive of doing the nasty with him. Instead, I'd pay to watch him doing the nasty with someone else..I could just see myself clutching my caramel popcorn and cheesy nachos watching him go at it like a rickshaw-wallah on E. Of course, now I couldn't try on the jeans I'd picked out cause ..err.. they turned out to be a bit tight in the fly region. *Old jungle saying - Hot model make Phantom jeans swell something awesome* Instead I had to pretend to be interested in some el crappo belts while the rest of me had time to err..relax.

No luck at Kink, we headed off to Sign O'the Times..the Irish sounding boutique staffed entirely by Bhaiiya minions of Gujju owners. Where I found "THE" pair. Of jeans that is. And of course, me heading out to shop for "just the one" thing means I end up lugging home crap that I defineitly don't need. Like a pair of linen pants..that are TRANSPARENT! What was I thinking? All Ami had to say was "Your ass looks rocking in that" (Well, I think the actual words were "Ass rocking chhe" in the faux-Gujju that Ami and me speak) and I had my 1200 Rs. out to buy them. Damn. This time I'm determined to put these pants to good use. I'm wearing them to the Gay Bombay party tonight. And if I don't get a hottie to talk to me (or my ass..I'm not picky) with my transparent pants, I will officially take myself off the market. (With these pants) As G-d is my witness, I shall never go hungry again. Funny how Scarlett O'Hara declaiming is appropriate for every one of Vikster's crises.

Did I mention the wicked expensive shoes I was "forced to" buy the day before? Well, I was all set to escape with these cheapo shoes when, *cue angelic music*, the sales guy showed me this awesome pair of calf-leather two-toned (or three-toned..I wasn't sure. Not wearing my glasses does have it's disavantages) shoes. According to him, they "matched my personality". And you know what? They do! Like my new shoes, I'm soft, come in a variety of shades and am VERY VERY expensive. I wore them proudly to Sanj and Shweta's engagement..where I pointed them out to everyone to admire. Yes, it's tacky to do that. But they're so awesome, I want to buy a pair of pants that flash red arrows to draw attention to them. (It's just a matter of re-embroidering the ones I have that direct attention to my ..err.. man-place)

I spent a lot of money. And whoever said money can't buy happiness was lying! I spent last night hanging out watching "The Amazing Race" in my new linen pants wearing my new shoes thinking "Right now? Fuck yeah, I'd do me!" And then I did...

Current music:
To celebrate the engagement of my 2 awesome friends - Shweta and Sanju, I'm listening to "Saat Samundar paar (main tere peeche peeche aa gayi) A song that provided ample scope for interpretive dance at the function. Congrats again you guys!