“One ticket to Hyderabad, please.” I begged.
“Don’t worry, madam,” he said, “I’ll get the best ticket possible, especially for you.” He then scanned me from head to toe. I adjusted my shawl to cover myself better.
With mascara under my eyes, hoop earrings, ruby roo lips, shiny semi transparent saree with sleeveless blouse and slingback heels. I didn’t look like a regular person who waits for the bus, but like someone who is about to down a few shots and hit the dance floor.
Also, Shrek uncle had made me wear my saree low on my waist so it showed my navel. My newly stitched blouse gave a bit of cleavage and covered almost nothing at my back. The shawl just didn’t have enough surface area to cover myself.
Our project had won the best project in our quarter, and we had a party to celebrate it. I had already booked train tickets to my hometown at 8pm, so Neha and I decided to leave by 6pm. The party was just an excuse for these middle aged uncles to drink without their wife nagging them. They started their colorful stories over drinks and totally ignored the fact that there were three women amongst their midst.
Finally, after some begging, my team-mate Vipul agreed to take us at 7pm but he totally overestimated his alcohol tolerance. He stopped the car midway and vomited all over the seat barely missing Neha. He requested a timeout to try and recover.
I bet you had a great experience with tenant in Bangalore