Lunch With A Friend's Missus

I LIKE THE MOVIE 'THE TRANSPORTER' because the hero has got himself a set of simple rules that he follows. I too got myself a set of simple rules but the sad thing is (seven out of ten); I break my own rules to accommodate a situation, or a person - and this has gotten me into some serious trouble with people. Do I learn anything from these experiences? No, I don't. Which is why I keep breaking my own rules from time to time, and which is why I keep getting myself into one trouble after another that I'm close to making a decision to leave a country to go live in a remote place like Gairloch - where I can do my own thing and not care about anything. But I know better that this is not possible because a guy with my kinda complexion and my kinda name won't blend too well in a place like Gairloch because you'd need to be a white man to live in a Scottish town like that. Of course I can marry a Gairloch girl and try to blend in with the folks there but this would take a lot of time and money and so I say to myself something like this; forget about it.

Oh yes, I've got a set of simple rules I'd like to follow to the letter - like never dine with a married woman, especially if the married woman is your friend's missus. But I gotta make a slight adjustment to this rule because the woman in question is the one who sobs sobs sobs in between the sentences when she has the sudden urge to talk about her hubby who has been missing for a couple of months now that he's got himself a new missus. In the meantime, I'm having lunch with the 1st missus in a restaurant where it's very difficult to be discreet when she keeps sob sob sob in between the sentences that people are beginning to pay attention to us probably thinking to themselves something like this; that couple is breaking up because that man is going to run off with a young thing in a skirt shorter than a handkerchief. I keep saying to her; please, ma'am, don't sob sob sob here, people are watching. She stops for three seconds, only to sob sob sob again the next minute. It's not the kinda sob sob sob that I used to do as a kid when I wanted something from Aunt . The sob sob sob I mean sounds more like a muffled cough - the kind when a heroine in a movie does it, hiding herself behind a box while the bad guys go around looking for her with a dog. Something like that. Do you know what I mean?

I'm not much of a guy to have a heart for a woman, especially when I'm a little hungry in the stomach and the food is right before my eyes. It so happens I'm in the mood for some Monghul food on a wet afternoon like this and so I say to her something like this; ma'am, why don't you eat something, it's good for you. She has a bit of kebab not bigger than the size of a morsel and leaves the rest untouched. And so I say to her; can I have that?

In between chewing and trying to be civil in a respectable restaurant, I watch her from time to time hoping and praying that she won't start on me with a set of sobs that can make people think I'm breaking up with her. Now this is between you and me; I will never figure out why a man would want to leave behind a pretty woman like her to marry someone less pretty (I've seen the picture of the other woman and believe me, on a scale of 10, this missus here is a high 3 and the new missus is a 7). I hope you are not offended by this grading but it helps me give you the idea of what I'm talking about. In case you wonder how does a 1 looks like in my book - I'll tell you. A young Elizabeth Taylor is a 1.

I say to her; ma'am, would you like some dessert? She says no and so I say to her; why don't you have some Kashimiri tea, it'll do you some good. She talks in a round about way about her life, work, childhood and stuff like that. I listen thinking to myself; ma'am, will you marry me?

I'm gonna be in a big trouble to break my second rule; never fall in love with someone else's missus, especially a friend's missus. But I've gotta make a slight adjustment.