You're at the gym. Perhaps on the ab machine trying to sculpt a 6 pack and as your swinging up and down, you spot a hot guy. You suddenly become mesmerized by the way his arm muscles flex as he's lifting those dumbbells, even notice the way he purses his lips at every jostling rep. You begin fantasizing about the naughty things you'd do to this Michael Scofield lookalike. How you'd rip his sleeveless shirt off to reveal the Statue of David underneath (but with much more hefty package). How you'd put your lips to his caramel skin. How you'd bounce quarters off his chiseled ass when he wasn't looking.
Oops. He turns and looks at you, realizing that you've been staring. All flustered, you suddenly look away... and your eyes meet those of a middle-aged obese man in chucks and hairy legs on the hip extender machine. He smiles and waves. You proceed to go home empty-handed once again.
Never in my life had I felt so humiliated. Ok thats a lie.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
5 Things I Learned About Gujus in New Jersey
Gujratis are a notorious clan. They are known to be cheap, tacky, and... vegetarian. Yuck! Having taken a long, extended hiatus from such people in hicksville otherwise known as Portland, OR, I was a reacquainted with my people, those to whom I have the closest genetic and cultural ties, during my two week stay in Edison, NJ. The findings were shocking and eye-opening.
1. Gujus do not understand, or rather, want to understand what orange cones mean on the road.
I came across this poor bastard when I attended a Friends of Gujrat event in nearby Brunswick. After having to roll down my window and yell at the Patel parade that rolled out of a clown car that literally blockaded me from finding parking for a good 15 minutes, I felt for this poor guy when I was trying to escape the circus. Yes, they basically needed to put human flesh in front of an entrance to a full parking lot because drivers couldn't clue in on the row of orange cones in front of it. Leave it to us Gujus to have to be threatened with a wreckless driving and manslaughter charge to keep us having our own way. "Friends" we may be, but not of the "Friends of the Road" variety.
2. Guju women flock to sales like hyenas feeding off of a single kill in the middle of a famine.
At "Friends of Gujrat," I was excited to find junk craft stalls. However, this was the booth that took the audience by storm. I tried to get a piece of the action. I mean at $15 per salwar kameez, who wouldn't right? So I squeezed between two overweight middle-women to get my own piece of that sweet sweet pie, and not only did I leave empty handed, I was elbowed in the side and kneed in the groin. Ok so I wasn't kneed in the groin. But might as well been.
3. Gujus like to tip in terms of Indian currency using American currency
This was my cousin's tip jar at a popular restaurant at the end of a hard day's work. After splitting it between 5 employees, he had enough money to buy a gumball at the mall. That is, after he traded in all those pennies for a shiny silver quarter. Nice going, chaiwalla!
4. Gujus take professional photos like they are mug shots.
This was the photo that was chosen by at dentist for his ad in the local paper. Thanks, Dr. Patel, but I think I'll pick someone else to remove my wisdom teeth. I'd like to spare being molested while under general anesthesia.
5. Lastly, Gujus think I'm white. Not ABCD. White.
It was okay though because that somehow made me feel quite superior. Even my cousin was shocked when they'd roll out the red carpets, crown me with a tiara, and hand me a fresh bouquet of red roses every time I went to the local Cash and Carry. I was a celebrity without having to do anything! I guess this is how Lindsey Lohan feels. Or Julia Roberts, post-"Eat Pray Destroy", that is.
1. Gujus do not understand, or rather, want to understand what orange cones mean on the road.
I came across this poor bastard when I attended a Friends of Gujrat event in nearby Brunswick. After having to roll down my window and yell at the Patel parade that rolled out of a clown car that literally blockaded me from finding parking for a good 15 minutes, I felt for this poor guy when I was trying to escape the circus. Yes, they basically needed to put human flesh in front of an entrance to a full parking lot because drivers couldn't clue in on the row of orange cones in front of it. Leave it to us Gujus to have to be threatened with a wreckless driving and manslaughter charge to keep us having our own way. "Friends" we may be, but not of the "Friends of the Road" variety.
2. Guju women flock to sales like hyenas feeding off of a single kill in the middle of a famine.
At "Friends of Gujrat," I was excited to find junk craft stalls. However, this was the booth that took the audience by storm. I tried to get a piece of the action. I mean at $15 per salwar kameez, who wouldn't right? So I squeezed between two overweight middle-women to get my own piece of that sweet sweet pie, and not only did I leave empty handed, I was elbowed in the side and kneed in the groin. Ok so I wasn't kneed in the groin. But might as well been.
3. Gujus like to tip in terms of Indian currency using American currency
This was my cousin's tip jar at a popular restaurant at the end of a hard day's work. After splitting it between 5 employees, he had enough money to buy a gumball at the mall. That is, after he traded in all those pennies for a shiny silver quarter. Nice going, chaiwalla!
4. Gujus take professional photos like they are mug shots.
This was the photo that was chosen by at dentist for his ad in the local paper. Thanks, Dr. Patel, but I think I'll pick someone else to remove my wisdom teeth. I'd like to spare being molested while under general anesthesia.
5. Lastly, Gujus think I'm white. Not ABCD. White.
It was okay though because that somehow made me feel quite superior. Even my cousin was shocked when they'd roll out the red carpets, crown me with a tiara, and hand me a fresh bouquet of red roses every time I went to the local Cash and Carry. I was a celebrity without having to do anything! I guess this is how Lindsey Lohan feels. Or Julia Roberts, post-"Eat Pray Destroy", that is.
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