Friday, Sept 3rd, otherwise known as the Night of the Random.
– Mri, VJ and I go for dinner. Mri, who has been driving for over a year, has two conditions: a) there must be parking, and b) we must not need a highway to arrive at the location.
– We land up at the Triangle. VJ suggests Mama Fu’s after noting that other places were very full and that Mama Fu’s was nearly empty on a Friday night. None of us seriously stopped to consider why that might be the case.
– Mama Fu’s very mediocre food with Mri and VJ (whose massamun apparently contained all the curry that wasn’t in Mri’s or mine). Dinner was interspersed with Mri’s marital woes (or lack thereof) and VJ’s succinct but incredibly original interjections.
– VJ suggests we drive down to Amy’s. We split a banana split, consume it in 5 minutes, and meet three other people whom I’ve never seen before in my life. We (i.e. VJ) all decide to go down to Ruta Maya, a bar with live music.
– Mri begins driving, VJ authoritatively giving instructions. After we hit Congress:
Mri: “Okay uncle, where do I turn?”
Five minutes later,
Mri: “Uncle, where the hell are we?!”
VJ: “Um, I’m not sure. Let me call someone.”
Ten minutes later,
Mri: “Are we anywhere near the place?!”
VJ: “Yes! See that water tower? Drive there!”
We reach Ruta Maya but do not enter, and sit outside talking and listening (and in VJ’s case, dancing; if I could move like him, I think many of my troubles would become insubstantial) to the music near the backstage entrance. Then we leave so VJ can get to music practice, and make sure Mri doesn’t drive into a tree before heading down to campus.
Saturday, Sept 4th, Abc arrives in town.
– Abc: “Hey so I have the car, we can go anywhere! … Or to Borders, so that you can finally use that gift card.”
Now I own Good Omens; Eats, Shoots and Leaves; Never Let Me Go; Changing Planes. Sadly ABC decides, after much deliberation, not to get a Lord of the Rings set.
– Mri meets us and we all have a look at my rather neglected apartment. Then we decide we’re going to get chaat at Bombay Express, so we look up the directions. This proves to be inadequate preparation. Strong sense of deja vu as we try to figure out where to go, and circulate around the spot for nearly an hour (taking side roads, frontage roads, driving in the opposite direction from the one suggested), even after making certain illegal turns. B meets us there and informs us that he always knew we would lose the way, but that he decided to remain optimistic and give us a chance. We are too exhausted to dispute the point. So far, all I can say is that Mri and I were both the only common elements in the two trips and there must be something wrong with us.
– We eat a ridiculous amount of chaat, and then contemplate going out and doing something very alcoholic. Abc suggests bowling (which is ironic, given later events), so we drive down to the Union. B proceeds to kick everyone else’s ass at bowling, I come in second and Mri third, and Abc proves that Harvard credentials mean nothing when it comes to hand-eye co-ordination.
Abc, of Mri’s technique: “She’s not even doing anything! She’s just dropping the ball!”
Later, with his confidence boosted by alcohol:
Abc: “All right, watch and learn, you guys.”
Two consecutive gutter balls later,
Me: “Abc, were we supposed to be learning what not to do when throwing the ball?”
– Abc, to his credit, suggests a hookah session after this.
(B, on the awesomeness of the idea: “See, this is why you’re in Harvard.”)
We retire to Arab Cowboy, where I get a proper first-hand account of the Epic Spring Break in Miami, including Mri’s Mansion Incident and the uncomfortable sleeping arrangements. Abc decides we must all go to Costa Rica for Spring Break 2011.
– And then we all left for Mozart’s. It’s a completely different place at night, it feels like – all secretive lights glinting on the lake and late night hot chocolate. B has the brilliant idea of playing Taboo, and I end up on Mri’s team. This is not conducive to winning.
Mri: “What happens when you put salicyclic acid on your face??”
Me: “…what?! I – you – less pimples?”
Mri: “No, it’s – what does your skin do??”
Me: “Flake off! Fall off! Dry up!”
Mri: “No, it’s… (time’s up) no, it’s peel! Your skin peels!”
Me: “And you expected me to get this with salicyclic acid?!”
Me: “Okay, what’s a dog descended from?”
It was a while since I’d had as… I hesitate to call it productive, but I did so many things I’d been wanting to do: go to Borders, go to Mozart’s, go bowling, and just hang around talking about random things with my friends.
Sunday, Sept 5th
Just in case the weekend wasn’t insane enough, I’ve just come back from a student/NGO dinner with the – get this – Consul General of India, from Houston. It was interesting on a variety of levels, not all of which were positive, but I’m confident I can at least get an article and some publicity out of it.
Yes, I think I can safely say that this weekend has been particularly productive.