Dear Mr. Murphy,
Hope you doing well. In fact, am positive you are doing well. Because I am not. Where do I start ?? Maybe with the fact that you plotted the receipt of my invitation letter on a Friday afternoon ?? Yes, that meant I can get it across to the travel desk only on monday.
On monday, you ensured that I looked my worst (ah, just a figure of speech. my last "looking best" was in 1980 when I was taken to a studio for a portrait). You also ensured that there was a crazy rule in the embassy which required me to have a visa picture with a white background - which means that I cannot use my standard, digitally-enhanced, homo-sapien look-alike photo that I usually give. You strategically increase the temperature that day to ensure that there are no significant differences between my face and a kuwaiti oil well. You make me lazy enough not to shave, but active enough to pick up the reddest shirt that mankind has ever designed. The staff at the embassy would have been wondering if this was a request to "donate generously for my cardiovascular operation on my left toe" or "to intimate all nearby police stations on sight and stay a few hundred metres away at all costs".
You delay the visa by a day quoting "late receipt". You delay it by another day quoting "high inflow". You delay it for yet another day quoting "in transit". Just when I was about to use that as an excuse, you send it across to me in pristine condition, guess when, on a friday evening - yes, after elvis had left the building. You make the travel desk folks set a time of 11am on saturday to receive the passport. You make me decide in favor of staying back at office over night instead of having to make two trips to office. You make the travel desk folks give me my passport after four excruciating hours of wait where I almost ate a biscuit packet including the cover. Just as I collect all my documents and head out you tap me on my back and say four letters. E. C. N. R. I hear three more words. B.A.M. I also uttered a four letter word which rhymes closely with duck.
Hungrier than King Kong, I lug my bag around and walk out and you throw open the water taps of heaven. When I dare to take it head on, you open it up even further. I give up and run back into office. You slow it down because the fun is just about starting. I fall for it and you catch me at a traffic signal where the wait time is 130 seconds. This time, you just open up all the valves. I go home wet wanting to get some work done and you chuckle at me saying I left the power cord at work. I remind of you the battery and you remind me that I drained it already at work, thanks to my laziness to bend down and fix the loose plug.
I still have monday to get my ECNR. You still have time to suddenly declare a national holiday and close out the passport office for a week. I am not carrying any formal wear. You can suddenly make it a country wide practice there. My laptop is slightly older, you can safely crash the hard disk. I would be going out in the open today, you can throw down a lightning and finish it off once for all. Ah, you wouldn't do that, would you ?? Who would kill their favorite poster boy ??
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Lightning Strikes Twice
Posted by Tyler Durden at 2:08 AM
Labels: auto biography, supposed humor, travelogue
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4 comments:
Good, should not have mocked the Gods!! The HE saw the "un-justness": the half point on Wed iQuiz could have had Mr.God (aka Murphy for you) ease up on you...
awww..how cud u forget to mention.. that Mr.Murphy finally sent u a sweet-clever-witty-pretty-angle to help you out!
Hilarious man... liked it a lot.
-Naveen
@G
I shouldn't have given you points for not fully identifying the space shuttle. My bad.
@anon
angle ?? saxons-angles-germanics ?? ein ??
@naveen
is this belky boy ?? either way, welcome and keep reading :-)
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