Your idea of a dream evening no longer comprises of dressing
to the hilt and partying with a drink in hand in some smoky den with a whole
lot of strangers whom you mistakenly thought were your bosom buddies. No Siree,
your best buddy is now that flat screen in the corner which you stare at
unblinkingly for 2 hours every evening, while you lay sprawled on your
favourite sofa in your old nightgown.
As you stare bug eyed at the shenanigans in other people’s
lives, the doorbell rings. So wrapped are you in a situation beyond surreal,
that you will never be a part of, you do not hear the doorbell. All you hear is
the muted grumbling of your better half (never could tune that off!) as he
tears himself from his idea of a good evening ( nothing like evening news which
focuses on how many were killed or starved to death) and walks grumpily to
the door. Suddenly you hear cheery
‘Hi’s’ and feel that blast of cold air that comes from the main door being
opened and you know with dreadful certainty that it ain’t winter that has blown
in early but a worst pestilence- that ‘Surprise Guest’. Here are a few tips to
survive the horror of an evening of small talk with your sanity intact....
BE COOL
Now, if like me, you have been caught in a shabby
transparent nightgown without underwear and your hair is an oily mess (you had planned to shampoo and condition
the next day) and the T.V blaring your lack of a social life- act blasé. Give a
Queen Elizabeth like wave with a teeny- tiny grimace of the lips that passes
off as a small smile and excuse yourself. Let husband do the polite chit-chat-
God knows he communicates in grunts when it’s just the two of you and this will
give a chance to exercise those rusty vocal chords and use words apart form the
surly ‘OK’ to your barked orders. Go to the bedroom and while you throw on some
decent inner and outer wear plan your strategy to throw out the ‘surprise guests’
without seeming hostile....
BE FRUGAL
It is ingrained in our psyche to treat guests like Gods.
Whether you are a Sheldon Cooper who has it dinned in his head by his God
fearing Texan mother to offer a friend a ‘hot beverage’ especially if the
friend is troubled or a dyed-in wool South Indian who is presumed to have an
endless supply of Sambhar or South Indian coffee in their kitchen, what you
need to do pronto, is focus on the word ‘needy’ and ‘friend’. These ‘surprise’
guests are neither-they are people you were friendly with almost 2 decades ago
before they migrated to the Big Apple. Yet, every year they flock like
migratory birds to their favourite nesting ground and lay an egg on your head.
Surprisingly, though they flaunt all the trappings of the West they seem to
have embraced none of the social conventions of the Promised land which decrees
you call before you descend on
unwary ‘friends’ and ‘relatives’. Worse, they come bearing no gifts apart from
their good natured grins and ‘memories’ of the good times in the past. Time to
dig your heels into that shabby sofa, and refuse to make or offer anything.
Especially to these well-fed people who have fed on your generosity in the
past. Offer them water and watch with glee as they shudder at the thought of
picking up a bug. Thank God for the weapon of Mass Diarrhea- our blessed water
that liquefies the gut of the U.S returned pest...
LOOK BORED
The hard part is having to sit and suffer through long
forgotten memories of the past ‘good times’ which you rarely, if ever,
recollect. Your best friend is sitting mute in the corner and you sit writhing
in agony knowing that you are missing the juiciest episode in that drama you
faithfully follow every evening. Part of you wonders how you can shorten this
visit by half an hour without seeming rude and part of you just wants to
throttle these intruders. The sheer nerve to presume you would be sitting at
home with nothing better to do, than watch T.V (darn right presumptuous!) and
they catch you literally naked in your living room while they are dressed to
the hilt. And, worse than the recapture of old memories is the infernal
snapping of the camera to make new ones! You are forced to pose while they
busily click away to capture more precious fodder for the next surprise visit.
One smile, one animated look, one friendly vibe and you know you are a sitting
duck for these friends- you might as well bring out the pyjamas- it is going to
be a looong night...
BE SMART
There is no point plotting revenge. They do not
live 10 miles away and 10,000 mile does put a damper on your idea of dropping
in unexpectedly on them and subjecting them to your heightened cheeriness, cosy
memories and stylish clothes while they cower half- dressed in their sofa.
Forget it-they know you are never gonna visit them and hence their noble
intentions of keeping ‘in touch’, year after blooming year without so much as a
phone call in-between. What really get you is that if they wanted your company
so badly why the hell can’t they spend a little for it? Arrange a dinner at
some venue and gather around all the old buddies- everyone knows that nothing
buys bonhomie better than Uncle Sam. With whisky, free food and no clearing up
why, I too could sing along old memory lane just as loud as they do. It’s the
sheer gall of the unannounced dropping in that gets me every time- sometimes
one needs an artificial aid to have a good time!
Here’s the plan and it is as frugal as your surprise guest-
DON’T OPEN THE DOOR. Use that peephole and slide away on all fours when you see
your U.S buddies on the other side. However, if they have phoned ahead, have
come to take you out for dinner in a taxi (oh yes, they have seen and heard
about Bangalore
traffic) then throw open the door and happily engage in the ‘remember when’s’
of long, long ago since they are paying you to have a good time. Leave it to
the Sheldon Coopers to offer a cup of tea on T.V – you demand that imported
whiskey as the hostage host to a past you are forced to partake in the present.
Got it?
Nimmou Nilakantan
