An Interesting Conversation

The protagonist in this composition is our Mr. Not So Perfect, a guy who has a tendency of falling for everything that is female and moves. He claims he's got taste but I'd not testify that for fear of being ostracized. He's waited too long and now he longs for his somebody. He is fed up of waiting for a miracle to happen, so he's on the road, with the hammer of nervous impatience to break the ice of his solitude. He's looking everywhere but nobody looks at him. He means business but he's not the best in the business. He is sick of being a nobody, but above all, he's sad at having a nobody. He's more impatient than ever but is not a patient of love. Fortunately he's found a date but unfortunately she's engaged and still more unfortunately, she's brought her swain and now Mr. Not so Perfect is in pain. What a mess!
He's not known for his patience but the girl's beau happens to work out slightly more than his gym instructor, a fact which his bulging arms bear a testimony to. So our hero slips out with the pretence of using the men's room.
As soon as he finds himself alone, he unlocks his Nokia 1600 keypad lock and dials the last dialled number, which happens to be his roommate’s. Oh I forgot to tell you that our protagonist is a sophomore in a reputed Engineering College. Well, following is the conversation that took place between the nervous wooer and his confidante. I hope you wouldn’t mind one last interruption from me when I add that our hero has a name but I prefer calling him John Doe and his roommate will be called good old Roomy.

Here it goes:

Roomy: What ? Done Already ?
J.D.: Yeah man. I’m done for.
Roomy: Are you kidding. It’s been only three goddamned minutes since you hung up when you saw her entering into the café.
J.D.: She killed the mood. She’s brought her boyfriend. She’s engaged.
Roomy: Blast your red whiskers! Why did she agree on coming in the first place? Had she seen a caring brother in you?
J.D.: Don’t know mate. Girls are so very unpredictable. You can’t say what they mean merely by listening to what they say. Why can’t they be damn straightforward?
Roomy: It’s us guys who expect a lot, sugar. Is this not the same word she used for you in the party?
J.D.: I now guess she wanted some sugar in her coffee that night. But she should’ve clarified when I called her honey.
Roomy: She’d have thought you needed some honey in your shake.
J.D.: Blast your sense of humour! Can’t this talk be more sombre? I need some help.
Roomy: So what can I do for you Sir? Yeah your Pizza will be there in half an hour sir. Would you like extra cheese? Maybe a drink to wash that down sir?
J.D.: Look at me, I’m laughing. Enough of your PJs for the day chum. How do I get out of the café without facing them?
Roomy: Try digging a tunnel right from the toilet to our hostel. Or maybe with that sissy figure of yours you could dive into the commode and swim your way out through the sewage pipes. Or wait right there, I’ll order for you a Spider Man’s Costume to be delivered inside the lavatory of Lover’s Lane Café.
J.D.: No papa, I wanna be the Batman instead. F*** you. Come up with something practical.
Roomy: It’s your run-away-attitude that causes you to be such a loser. Go and join them. Try to act as if everything’s okay.
J.D.: How can I? As if everything’s okay? Well, things were looking pretty okay until that jerk showed up. He’s like a hole in a million dollar, gold brocaded, diamond studded briefs.
Roomy: Yeah he is. But remember, diamond studded briefs are not meant to be worn. They’ll leave scars all over the goddamned place. Diamond is the hardest of all substances and can cut through all other hard things.
J.D.: Cut the crap.
Roomy: Who started it?
J.D.: Okay. Now what. I’m not going back and paying the bill which will include a shot of vodka that would have gone down that sonofabitch’s f***ing throat.
Roomy: Then ask him to order for a beer instead. That way you’ll not have to pay for the vodka.
J.D.: As if that ox will listen to me. He didn’t even nod back when I said Hi.
Roomy: Apparently the ox’s got attitude.
J.D.: Attitude or not, I can’t stand that sonofabitch.
Roomy: Then keep standing in the urinal until he dies of old age.
J.D.: I thought we had already established that this was no time for jokes.
Roomy: Who’s joking now? I’m dead serious, junior.
J.D.: The thing on top of my agenda. What about that?
Roomy: You mean running away from them without them noticing it? Right?
J.D.: Either that or getting rid of the out-of-place bone in the kebab.
Roomy: You need a second opinion dude. I believe you are the bone in the kebab and not him.
J.D.: I’d really appreciate if you let me be a judge of that. It’s my date, my girl, my money and my me. Whose side are you on anyways?
Roomy: Yeah if every goddamn thing’s yours then why is it that you are hiding in the lavatory? The only thing that belongs to you is your shit and that too will cease to be once you use the flush.
J.D.: So what do I do? Walk up to the bar and holler out “Drinks to everyone from my side in the honour of the beautiful couple “
Roomy: Not a bad idea. Could you wait till I come? It has been time since someone paid for my drink.
J.D.: I feel like socking that madcap and you are only helping me decide in the favour of executing my plans.
Roomy: Go ahead. I’d have one private ward reserved for you in the Apollo.
J.D.: Can’t you talk sensibly?
Roomy: Okay. Here’s the plan. No more buffoonery. I’ll speak and you’ll listen.

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J.D.: Blast your Red Whiskers.