The Dilli Diaries Deux : Return of the Che

Obviously I had never been to a cocktail dinner, let alone to one at a five star hotel. But using my superpower of common sense I somehow figured out what to expect. Now came the hard part. How the fuck do I fit in there and not stick out like Superman in an edition of Playboy?
I planned to wear the only decent pair of black pants I have that I wear to pretty much any where that’s supposed to be too formal for jeans or cargos. Of course I was not planning to wear just the pant, idiot! I was going to put on a nice formal white shirt; yes this one had pockets too! And to top it off that thing I bought from esprit, yes that thing that could neither decide whether it was a coat or a jacket nor decide if it was black or blue. Yes I have strange clothes. And to bottom it off, a pair of black suede shoes. I think I wore underwear too.
Any way I was all dressed up and SS had put on what else but a black dress, women seriously need more imagination these days. As soon as we decided to leave, I picked up the blue-black coat-jacket and put it on. The moment I put it on pop went the button. WTF!!! I was wearing it for maybe 5th time and the button popped out already? What is this shit? Gah! It ruined my plans. Fortunately unlike you mortals I always have a back up. No its not Robin.
So the blue-black coat-jacket was showed back where it came out of, I meant my bag, and I pulled out a black sweater I had brought just was such emergencies. The sweater is designed by the guy whose initials make up the second half of my favorite 4 letter word. No its not VE, dammit!
We got in to the cab and took our royal hineys to the venue where we saw an orange colored Gallardo parked right outside the lobby entrance. We found our way to the Ballroom and stumbled in to a sea of black coats, black sarees and black dresses that were not so “lil” due to the darned winter. On the way to meet Baba, I ran in to trays of abso-fucking-lutely finger licking kebabs and interacted with them for good 15-20 minutes before S dragged me away. Baba was looking all groomy in his black Armani suit and B was looking stunning in her pink dress. They looked a happy couple alright.
My quest for Bighead led me to the watering hole and I parked myself there. Couple of drinks later who else walks in but the gang from that farmhouse party. Yes THAT farm house party with women who were immune to cold. This time they were all much sober so introductions went well. Almost.
All the guys in that group had either gone to study at my college after I had left or they had studied with Bighead. Now that they were in their senses they figured out who I was and their fanboy-ish reaction was actually quite annoying. One of them actually went, “You are CHE? You mean THE Che?” Yes boy, now calm down and roll over and play dead. NOW!
Apparently they got to know about me from my friends including Baba and the fuckers had told them some “folklores”. They pretty much blamed their alcohol drinking, skirt chasing and partying habits on me!!!! WTF!! I am such a nice boy!!! Bastards.
Turns out the image they created of me on these young impressionable minds was of a bottom less pit for alcohol storage and these fuckers decided to test it. This meant they all went fucking nuts and tried to recreate my college days which translated into shots after shots after shots of booze. In between I took breaks to walk to toilet to barf when I had 3 or 4 shots poured down my throat. Needless to say that I don’t remember much of the night and yes, I did attempt to dance. Since no funny looks came my way the next day I guess I did OK.
I remember leaving at around 3 am with Baba, Bighead and B in the Honda. And I remember it being too foggy. Then I remember hitting a huge pothole and then I remember waking up next day. Yep that was it. Can’t remember much these days, must be the old age.
While you wait for the next part I leave you with a tag cloud of my blog. Its really WTF material.

11 thoughts on “The Dilli Diaries Deux : Return of the Che

  • rabbit

    che,i have never been to a five-star too.I hope my first visit turns out to be like yours.

    nice post… but you should write often bro.

    tc n have a nice day

  • sanely insane

    so u wore a black sweater, drank like u were sixteen and danced with people whose names and faces u wont be able to match together…hmm

    so did the bumping into the pothole hurt?


  • Che

    @rabbit aka V:

    Oh 5 stars are nothing man. On weekends we go to dhaba right next to Taj, have dinner there and then go to Taj for coffee. Bill comes same :(.

    Write more often you say! Chalo I will grant your wish soon. From next month pucca 😀

    @Sanely Insane:

    Yep you summed up the 2 page long post in 2 words alright 😛

    Oh not really, my friends expensive honda took care of that :P. It just woke me from my alcohol induced coma 😛

  • Che

    @copyroti aka punguin aka pixel:

    Point noted and corrected 😛


    Haha yes man a scary vision indeed. But these boys have it easy back in India. There were no expensive cars to flaunt, no farmhouses to throw parties at and the winter was too long and cold for such farmhouse parties any way.

  • busyidling

    so ur semicomatose again deadpoet!is this blogblues infectious?all the blogs i follow are a deep shade of blue,so I am again busy(idling) 🙁
    Write something…even ancient history will do,for faithful fans!


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