Apologies to the people who were sitting by their computer screens, waiting for yesterday's post. That means you Mom. Though judging by the content below, I hope my mom sits this one out.
Its 4/22. 4/20 was supposed to be the day where smokers everywhere light one in unison. Or something to that effect. My 4/20 was rather interesting. It felt like 420. A scam *insert no mouth smiley*
Arrangements were made to pick up goods from Worli. What I didn't realize was this gentlemen who we were supposed to meet with was busier than Modi's PA.
Shouldn't have referenced Modi in this post. Fuck.
We got there. We waited. And waited. Our good friend, dear sir, refused to answer his phone. Refused to. And we didn't call him once. We probably called him more than Salman called Aishwariya after their break-up.
Shouldn't have reference any of those people. This is probably my last post.
So I went to change my guitar strings yesterday. Yes, I know you thought that the story was going to continue, but then I got bored writing it. This is that type of blog.
So yes, guitar strings. I was lucky enough to be gifted a Fender Stratocaster by a very cool person who I won't name (see, I'm learning!) For those who don't know, the Fender Stratocaster is the holy grail of the guitar world. I enter the store. Tell them I needed my strings changed. The man at the counter shrugs me off saying, "Saturday ko mileaga." (You'll get it on Saturday). It takes 15 minutes to change guitar strings: surely not 72 hours. Anyway, I was in the process of unzipping the case and removing the guitar, when he saw the headstock with the word 'FENDER' on it. His tone changed, I kid you not. He backtracked and said, "Shaam ko aapko guitar mil jaayega" (You'll get your guitar in the evening). Racism exists all around us.
Okay now I'm hungry. It's lunch time. Somewhere in the world.
Until I type www.blogger.com again,
M
Its 4/22. 4/20 was supposed to be the day where smokers everywhere light one in unison. Or something to that effect. My 4/20 was rather interesting. It felt like 420. A scam *insert no mouth smiley*
Arrangements were made to pick up goods from Worli. What I didn't realize was this gentlemen who we were supposed to meet with was busier than Modi's PA.
Shouldn't have referenced Modi in this post. Fuck.
We got there. We waited. And waited. Our good friend, dear sir, refused to answer his phone. Refused to. And we didn't call him once. We probably called him more than Salman called Aishwariya after their break-up.
Shouldn't have reference any of those people. This is probably my last post.
So I went to change my guitar strings yesterday. Yes, I know you thought that the story was going to continue, but then I got bored writing it. This is that type of blog.
So yes, guitar strings. I was lucky enough to be gifted a Fender Stratocaster by a very cool person who I won't name (see, I'm learning!) For those who don't know, the Fender Stratocaster is the holy grail of the guitar world. I enter the store. Tell them I needed my strings changed. The man at the counter shrugs me off saying, "Saturday ko mileaga." (You'll get it on Saturday). It takes 15 minutes to change guitar strings: surely not 72 hours. Anyway, I was in the process of unzipping the case and removing the guitar, when he saw the headstock with the word 'FENDER' on it. His tone changed, I kid you not. He backtracked and said, "Shaam ko aapko guitar mil jaayega" (You'll get your guitar in the evening). Racism exists all around us.
Okay now I'm hungry. It's lunch time. Somewhere in the world.
Until I type www.blogger.com again,
M
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