Drunken talkies

Being in an expensive bar during happy hours is fun whether or not you are drunk. There are individuals trying to mend a broken heart, groups celebrating a birthday looting an individual, and couples dating while respecting the slowdown in the economy.

There is a saying here that if there are more than one utensils in a kitchen, they are bound to make sound – referring to the occasional arguments people in a family indulge into. Well, probably at the time this saying was made, bars were not so prevalent as they are now. The “sound” that the innocently drunk “utensils” make is sometimes enough to subside the loud music playing in the language of Martians which is further remixed by Wall-E.

It was the time of our graduation treat at The Irish House in Calcutta and we saw a couple enjoying an appealing drink. It was a cocktail in which the whole solid can of Red Bull was immersed upside down. We were intrigued (and hoped the cans would pass the hygiene tests with better marks than we did in our finals) by the look of the drink. So one of our drunken masters, Ravi, went up to the couple and very respectfully asked the girl, “Excuse me, ma’am. What are the ingredients of this drink?” Unfortunately, the guy was in no mood to let her girl socialize and let our warrior get some happiness in the happy hours. “Ingredients? Are you a fucking scientist?”, he barked furiously. Heartbroken, my friend who had just a day before submitted his thesis for his masters in Chemistry declared proudly : “Yes I am !” And it was a delight to see the petrified faces of these newly made friends. The three of them spent a major part of the evening discussing the ingredients. 😀

Meanwhile another sober friend, Aleem showed me a card with these words : “Buy 2 get 1”. Anyone found it funny? Neither did I. Then he said this : “Dude how can these be happy hours? We have to pay for 2 drinks but they’ll give only 1”. And a subtle giggle slipped from Tejeshwar, sitting between us. This triggered a chain reaction and one by one each one of us spat out everything that was inside their mouths, laughing with tears in our eyes on this lame joke. It became a herculean task to stop ourselves from laughing but then the bill did the trick. The smiles suddenly changed in a moment to inquisitive looks to ascertain who has how much.

Just before leaving, we saw a man, probably in his late twenties or early thirties sitting alone with a beer TOWER on his table. He filled his glass and held it as if trying to crush it into pieces. His red eyes made it evident that if hate signifies passion, that guy has really found his passion in that beer tower !

Stories are more, but time is less. Alcohol is slow death. Consume only if you are not in a hurry to die. Thanks for reading.

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