Bald n 50, hot n sexy..?!

Rating: A

Disclaimer: This is not a work of fiction. Rather, as always, a work of emotion. It is not meant to hurt or please either sex. Dissent is natural and welcome.

Latest addition to my ‘List of Taboo Words’ - MEN (Also includes Man, Boy and anything masculine. FYI, few others would be diet, weight-loss etc etc).

Irrespective of age, I think they all think with the wrong part of their anatomy. I agree there are exceptions. There are those scattered, unintentionally good souls. The ‘decent’ lot. But then as my profs in MBA would say, “Exceptions are not examples!” And so, I can safely say that majority of the men in the world are born bastards. My views may seem extreme but I speak outta experience! I am pretty fortunate to have around me some of those real good guys. But then again, there are the others…

Case 1: The Boss - Right now the most happening story in my life.

The scoop: Getting hit on by my new boss at my new workplace. Bald and 50, glasses and a mole AND half my height! Oh and yea, he’s got a daughter who’s almost my age!

The Gory details: Unnecessary hand holding, extra long hand shakes (inspite of me trying to yank my hand away), irking references to ‘walks on the beach’ with us ‘holding hands’ and me in ‘western clothes’.

His explanation (for the ‘walking on the beach bit’): To test how conservative Chennai is, and to observe what stories people would spin seeing us together! [To which I actually told him something as lame as my ‘arranged’ marriage would get affected by it]

My retaliation: Though delayed, I managed to muster the guts to go and tell someone about what’s been happening. I know, I know. I should’ve done this earlier (waited almost 2 weeks, but then, it’s just been 2 weeks since I joined!). I should have probably told him off myself. I’m not denying I’m a coward. I hate the very fact that I am. But I just wanted to make sure of his intentions. I didn’t wanna seem assumptive or that I read in between lines. Come on, I was just 2 weeks in! Anywayz, case is pretty much solved. Sad part is I still report to him, but after a lot of convincing from the HR, the MD and a few others, I do see sense in remaining where I am.

After-math: Mr. I’m-so-sexy has his hands to himself and his tongue behind his teeth. (cuz hez got this ugly gap in between his teeth and he talks with a slight lisp when his tongue gets there. Blech!) Nothing untoward. As yet…

Case 2: The Random Lurker – Crass, gross and all those extra-eeewww stuff

The scoop: Me and Dolz. One walk through Rakiyappa theru at 9.30 pm. One stalker. Denim clad, cap and book in hand.

The Gory details: Dolz gets all paranoid that it’s too late to walk. [For all the right reasons. I, on the other hand, vehemently denied and condemned her fears as irrational. Afterall, juz WHAT could happen to 2 SALWAR clad girls walking down a dark alley hardly 100 yards away from their house. Special emphasis on the ‘salwar’ for those of you who are murmuring – jeans la pota pasanga paaka dan seivanga (i.e: if you wear jeans and all, obviously guys would look. Like it matters!)]

Anywayz, back to the scene of action. I keep telling her to shut up and walk. She walks faster. I beg her to slow down. Mr. Hunk walks faster. He overtakes us. I look at her and triumphantly think, “See, he wasn’t out to get us. Happy?” Just then she overtakes him. And I have no choice but to run and keep up. And then it happens. He says “Excuse me”. I don’t know what made me turn (my excuse still is that I thought he was calling to say we had dropped a bag or something). Dolz walks forward. I turn. He says, “If you don’t mind (!!!!), can I taste your ******”. In ENGLISH. Like saying ‘if you don’t mind’ would actually make me not mind. Like it’s mandatory to be polite at the most irrevelant-est of moments. Like I would be all forthcoming in the middle of the road (or anywhere). Like all I wanted was to turn around and….

My retaliation: Thu, oru mannu um illa. I ACTUALLY screamed, pulled Dolz’s hand and RAN. And HE turned around and walked away.

After-math:

1. Immediate: Shivering, sweating, heart thumping so hard it ached, tears and complaints to alllllllllllllll. (except appa amma cuz if they knew, I would be under house arrest irrespective of night or day)

2. 30 mins later: Embarassment. For having run away. Anguish. For his audacity and my foolishness at not listening to Dolz. Anger. At all men, and hence this blog. Resolve. To learn self defense and carry pepper spray. To never walk again- at night. To listen to Dolz more often, she is elder by 4 years after all!

3. Next morning: Sheer self-disgust. Thanks to my darling friends rubbing it in.

“You should have just turned and given him one-tight slap. I would’ve done that”.

“You ran? You should have held his hand and cut it! Carry a knife di”

“Medical advice: Crush his throat with index finger and thumb. Would stop blood to his brain and he would suffocate” (Like my dumb, numb mind could process that then)

Guys advice: “ONE kick where it hurts most. Would have put the fear of God in him”.

Questions my mind is throwing-up (literally) now:

1. Why me?

2. What if his family knows? (the boss)

3. Does he even understand what he is saying? (the stalker)

4. Why me?

5. Why can’t I be bolder?

6. IF (God forbid!) this happens again, what would I do?

7. Thank God Dolz was there with me. If not…? *shudder* [Not like I would have done anything but run otherwise]

8. Any one know where I can get hold of that pepper spray? A shot gun perhaps?

9. Any other suggestions for how to tackle mean men…?

10. And yea...are all men this way????

Answers please!