Everytime I travel in a bus, train or plane, I always end up sitting next to an obscenely obese gentleman. Each time, I wait for the law of averages to catch up with me and usher in some long overdue justice, preferably in the form of a hot-babe neighbour in the bus. I sent up a little prayer before boarding the bus to Hyderabad, but apparently I'm not doing it right. The guy who sat next to me looked like he could easily edge Yokozuna out of the dohyo.
As a result, I was playing mind games with the fatso all night long when I should have been sleeping. Straightaway I realised that I was the underdog, and I graciously relinquished all my rights on the common armrest. But these fatsos never stop there. As soon as they sleep, they spill over in all directions. My first course of action was to repeatedly recline and straighten my seat in order to point out that large chunks of adipose had made their way to the wrong side of the common armrest. When that failed to work, I took jerky jabs with my elbow to upset his peace, while pretending that I'm doing all that in my sleep. I must add that I adhered to all bullet points on the geneva convention's regulations for this kind of warfare; my elbow never once left my airspace. But sigh! I guess the nerve endings were buried too deep down because he didn't budge an inch. I gave up trying to sleep.
Apparently, I've accumulated a lot of bad karma, because on the return trip I sat next to a man, who in an ideal world, would voluntarily buy two tickets for himself.
And here's the vote of thanks.
K, you're a swell host buddy. Although you should work on your welcome gestures. Atleast wear a few more clothes.
M & A, thanks for the charming company. See you in bangalore soon.