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The Past In 55 Words

Some 55-word-stories, related and un-related.

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The past is a tricky creature. It never quite stays in its place, does it? It defines the path we take. It makes us who we are. And perhaps it says something about who we will be. Can we ever truly detach ourselves from our pasts? I think not. So I shrug and accept it.

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She: I want to meet your ex-girlfriend.

He: What an odd thought! Why?

She: She’s your past and that’s part of you. Getting to know you includes meeting your past.

It’s to know why you like me. If she’s shy, I’ll know it’s my personality. If she’s sweet, it’s my attitude.

“CRAP” he was thinking.

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“That’s her.”

“That’s her??? Your ex-girlfriend is gorgeous.”

“Not the way you are.”

“Right….you didn’t tell me she was so tall.”

“How does it matter? I think you are my perfect woman”

“One that’s shorter than you, you mean?”

“Quiet now…here she comes”

Pretty face, status symbol, too much attention. It must have been about his ego, then.

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XX1: I’m glad to meet you!

XX2: Me too! I’ve been hearing so much about you!

XX1: We must talk about books. He said you have a collection!

XX2: I’ve got a book I hope you’ll like.

She’s just like me. Hmm…he’ll be a frequent furniture re-arranger. The same stuff but with a new look.

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1 new message!

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Hi, I’m disappointed you didn’t come for the engagement. We were friends after all. You could’ve left work early. Anyway, here’re the photographs. Wish you were a part of them.

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Re:

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Photogenic me? But I don’t have that complexion, do I? You always had a thing for fair skin. Congratulations Mr.Fair & Lovely.

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She stubbed out the cigarette butt and gazed out of the window, running through the list in her mind. An organized mind aids good decisions.

Ex-girlfriends

  1. The Head girl
  2. The Beauty Queen
  3. The Campus Rebel
  4. The Business whiz-kid
  5. The Journalist
  6. The ex-girlfriend of his nemesis
  7. The Former Colleague

A collector of alpha females, she concluded.

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This is a version of an older post. A version is also posted at Yahoo! Real Beauty.

Why Do Women Go To The Loo In Groups?

Like every good Mumbaiker, I would spend about an hour and half commuting to work each morning. Once I got in, I’d perch on my chair, waiting for my colleague to arrive. She’d walk in about 10 minutes later, switch on her computer, rearrange her desk and give me a little nod in the direction of the door. And we’d get up in unison and leave.

I’ve heard about this from several amused (and puzzled) men. We call it ‘The Loo Community’. The question is,

Why do women go to the loo in groups?

I suspect the real question is,

“What on earth do they do in there???!!!”

It is a good question.

So what do we do when we ‘go’ in groups? Well….we talk. We giggle. We compare notes on men (boss, colleague, client, boyfriend, husband, friend). The sneaky suspicion men have, that women are having a good laugh at their expense in the loo, is correct. The washroom is a great place for female bonding. After all, that really is the only place the men can’t interrupt our thoughts or conversations. (Down with the unisex!!)

Frantic damage control can be administered and strategies discussed. Ever heard of the following? If it’s familiar, you’re probably female.

“I got an oil stain on my dress!!!”

“Here….use some talcum powder on it! It’s great for matting away all kinds of oils – facial or vegetable!”

And there are questions of earth-shattering importance which need privacy and seclusion to be dissected and pondered over. Such as…

“What if he calls here and wants to talk?”

“Say “Oops, I hear my boss calling!” and hang up!”

Sample the following titbits from real lootime conversations:

I tried some crunches yesterday & got a cramp. I hate these damn tyres!

Hee hee…bet he loves those love-handles though!

Yes well, and we play the fool sometimes too. One time we went out for a drink, the women went to the washroom together (of course!). There we discussed who was drinking what, who was sloshed, who could be lulled into saying something interesting in the present state of drunkeness. We giggled over some of the things the men were saying. Then we looked at the mirror together and appraised ourselves. One of them said

“Security guard is a bloody letcher…did you notice?”

I put in,

“Bully for him, there’s a bevy of beauties passing by after all.”

Rightttttt… she retorted,

“We look more like Charlie’s angels!!”

A minute later a sturdy matron in a grey salwar-kameez walked in on the three ‘beauties’ posing like Charlie’s angels and trying to photograph the mirror (without the camera showing).

Though coming back to the point, this loo community is really obvious at work. All the guys smoke and there’s tremendous bonding happening over a shared cigarette. Strangers walk by and ask my male colleagues if they could share a light and then chat like they’ve been friends for years. My cubicle neighbor (who is male and smokes) has the in on the office gossip practically seconds after it happens. When he gleefully accounts something that he’s apparently known for ages and ages and I ask him how he knows, the answer always lies in smoketime conversations. A few of the women smoke but somehow they are never included in this camaraderie.

But I don’t worry. We have our own version of the office grapevine. I’ve managed to get to know most women in the office, across floors and departments simply because we share the bathroom mirror in the mornings. Great friendships are born from that small-but-useful tip over how to get rid of pimples. Intellectual conversations start from a discussion on the best way to hide a hickey (horrors!…giggle giggle). An unexpected ally may be made from that emergency safety-pin passed over the toilet stall wall.

Female-bonding is a good way to start and end the day.

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Posted earlier as Communal Looing. A version is also available at Yahoo! Real Beauty.

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