IV. Candid Verses: The Chatroom Dilemma!
Say you’re a chat addict like me. You log on to a Chatroom. You go down the list of fifty male names, and finally your eyes are transfixed on two female names, Say: Shristi and Aneeta! Who would you rather chat with?
It is amazing how mere mention of names conjure up images of people you know in real life.
SHRISTI: a fair, fairly sophisticated, and a semi-urban girl: easy on the eyes; hard on the wallet. Sitting by a Café pretending to read a book on feminism, fidgeting with her black hair and blackberry with one hand while sipping coffee and lighting menthol ciggies with the other. Arrests you with her looks alone, but every now and then, loves to yap about social injustice in complex English that makes her seem more intelligent than she really is!
ANEETA: A nosy, borderline-obese neighbor-aunty; talks with a lisp yet manages to spread every secret like a wildfire that consumes the neighborhood. Won an imaginary “green chilli-eating contest” by a big margin. Eloped during her sweet sixteenth and realized at twenty eight that she had run off with the dumbass of the neighborhood after pumping out three dumb kids.
The choice is obvious. You meticulously craft an icebreaker; send her a message, and luckily she responds. One thing leads to another and before you know it, you are deeply in love. Madly too because, in less than 30 minutes, you’ve shared every dirty secret you’ve kept from your friends and families but you haven’t asked for her Real Name yet. Worse: you don’t know how she looks.
When you reach this stage my friend, one of the two tragedies is inevitable:
1. She turns out to be a male, which you find the hard way. You are pleasantly shocked, vow never to chat again, get drunk and go back to the chat room the next day. 2. It turns out the she’s really that sophisticated urban girl you have been waiting all your life!
The latter is a tougher pill to swallow. When she eventually finds out that you don’t look anywhere close to the picture you sent her, that your height is merely an illusion of the camera angle; that your photo-shopped six pack in reality is just one big rounded belly; that your 12 hour work shift in a "financial hub" is really in the next door gas station; and your "business trip" last summer was to the Ocean City, you will be phased out.
Have you noticed how girls never outright reject you? Instead, she suddenly becomes busier than usual. Slowly she becomes unavailable. When confronted, she will still want to be your friend. She’ll want to hear about your progress. She’ll want to tell you about the guys she has crush on and so forth. In simpler terms, she now wants to share the same plate but not the same bed!
Men don’t take this well. It is in our caveman-genes also known as stupidity: when we realize that we can’t have something for certain, then we’re ready to die for it. That’s when the studs and machos turn creepy, emotional, needy, and cranky and resort to unusual amount of drink, smoke or maybe even prescription pills. I say look at the bright side: the weaker ones may perish, but the great philosophers, writers, poets, singers, song writers are borne out of this universal tragedy.
And they call us dogs. Ok maybe - We’re dogs after all because we don’t seem to learn an ounce. After all this heart-wrenching experience, you’re bound to do the unthinkable. You go back to the chat-room with a new Avatar and a stronger resolve to find the right one! I mean the right one with the right nickname!
Last edited: 14-Feb-12 01:41 PM
