Movie Clichés: Bank Robberies

Movie Clichés: Bank Robberies

 

Originality in entertainment is hard to come by these days. The real robbery in heist movies are the stolen plots and cliché lines. If the movie is about a bank robbery, then this is how it goes down:

 

*The bank robber takes on one last job. This is it. The last one. He voluntarily comes out of retirement or is forced out of retirement by some bad guys. He's set for life if he can just pull this off.

 

*The plot thickens as he gathers a small crew of outlaws for the job. The crew of misfits often has a badass driver who's clumsy outside of a car. He drives like crazy and is the best getaway driver in town. If a female is part of the gang, then expect her to swear like a sailor.

 

*The robbery never goes according to plan. There's a lot of shooting during the actual heist and most of it is inaccurate. Cops and robbers are more interested in shattering objects around them than aiming at each other.

 

*Kids are always smarter than adults in such movies. It's a rule that must not be flouted.
 

*In their bid to get away, the robbers steal items of clothing to disguise themselves. These will fit perfectly, irrespective of the size or gender of the person from whom they stole the clothes.

 

*A robber who carries a photo of a loved one or describes how he's going to spend his loot, has no chance of returning alive. But the dying robber always lives long enough to say something profound like, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

*When the hero is confronted by cops or opponents, they agree to only attack him one at a time. This is probably part of the Geneva Conventions.

 

GINGERBREAD HOUSE CONTEST

GINGERBREAD HOUSE CONTEST

 

My office organizes an annual Gingerbread house design contest. It’s a labor of love that gets us into the holiday spirit. Two teams tagged ‘Red’ and ‘Blue' engage in erecting the most beautiful structures. It’s fun to see who can make the best decorated gingerbread house. Combining mini marshmallows, gumdrops, icing sugar, candy, spices and sprinkle. 

 

The Gingerbread houses are displayed in the open office on a raised platform. Staff vote for their preferred house using the provided red and blue ballots. I led the Red team this year and we worked hard on our edible house. My colleague, let's call her Miss P, was in charge of the Blue team. Team Red took the lead immediately.

 

Miss P let out a cry of disbelief at the growing pile of red ballots in the transparent box. Then she said to herself, "What the hell?" 

 

She walked over and stuffed all her blue ballots in the box. 

"There! We won," she declared. We all stared at her slack-jawed in shock. 

 "Why did you do that?" I asked. "Now it's all messed up."

"I never lose," she said. 

You'd think we were seven-year-old kids back in grade school. 

RIP-OFF MECHANICS

RIP-OFF MECHANICS

 

A friend lent me his Dodge Caravan. The car had a strong whiff of cigarette smoke and stale beer. There were also stains that resembled the color of light-colored mustard or ketchup.

 Nonetheless, I was glad to have the car. While driving, I observed that there was this crazy sound when I stepped on the brakes. A loud thud - the mother of all thuds and you know how mothers can be - followed by crazy vibrations. 

 I got worried and went to a mechanic. He gave me the bad news. The brake pads were worn and it had affected the drums. The pad runs on the disc, causes scoring and critically impacted the brake performance. I needed to fix the car urgently, or else! 

 As it turned out, the mechanic was a dodgy fellow. There was, naturally, a non-refundable fee for the diagnosis. I would get the full bill after the required extensive repairs. I didn't have the amount of cash he mentioned and a sixth sense told me this was a rip-off merchant.  

 It occurred to me that the sound I heard when I stepped on the brake was like something being flung about. I also remembered that my friend keeps a lot of junk in the trunk of his car.

I opened the trunk and the clutter was unbelievable. A spare tire, two switchblades, shoes, duct tape, tire iron, jumper cables, electric cables, work gloves, shovel, etc. It was like looking for weapons of mass destruction that may or may not be hidden away in Iraq. Some, if not most, of the items were useful things one should keep close at hand. However, the collection of handy items were lying about in an untidy mass. I eventually tidied up the clutter. I drive out and step hard on the brakes, the noise is gone. The brakes are just fine. It was the clutter that made the crazy-loud thud as the collection of items were thrown about in the trunk. 

HANDSHAKES

HANDSHAKES

 

Handshakes are weird and gross if you think about it. Two creatures grasp one of each other's limbs, in most cases accompanied by a brief up-and-down movement of the grasped limbs. This ritual marks the beginning of any sort of business partnership. It finalizes an agreement and begins most social interactions. 

 

We don’t even know what the other party has been doing with their hands. I don't want to gross you out with the endless possibilities. Sure, maybe they wash their hands occasionally. But how often and how thoroughly? 

 

If aliens arrived on Earth, they would find this human behavior absurd and incomprehensible. Aliens are going to think we are weird creatures engaged in a silly ritual before any face-to-face interaction. 

You know what? I'm just going to keep my hands behind my back, going forward. It’ll be cool to see how people react. I will simply smile and act like I missed their social cues. Definitely going to  get some confused looks. 

 

 

PUBLIC TRANSIT

PUBLIC TRANSIT

On the bus transit, you can bet your last dollar there are old gums stuck to the bottom of seats by benevolent persons. All you need do is crack one off, if you need it.

It was not nice what happened to me on the bus. I got on the bus and spotted an empty seat beside an elderly gentleman with a fuzzy beard. It was the last available seat. As soon as I made to sit down, the man gave me a funny look, stood up and moved away. He remained standing, holding onto the metal pole of the bus with one hand. Our gazes held for a second, before he turned away, fuming.

A lot of people prefer sitting alone on buses, so moving to an empty seat happens often and doesn’t bother me. But there was no empty seat on this bus. It wasn't a matter of wanting a seat closer to the exit either. It was apparent his exit point was not close.

"Am I not cool enough to sit next to or what?" I wondered. I was sure personal hygiene was not the issue. I was well-groomed and fashionable, if I may say so myself. Was the man a racist? I thought long and hard about it and almost got a migraine in the process.

Another stop, another passenger. This time, it was a woman. She was in her twenties and wore a pale green and yellow dress. She noticed the free seat and made a beeline for it. The man with the fuzzy beard quickly blocked her path.

"Stop! It’s wet! The seat's wet!"

I noticed now there was a visible wet patch on his pants. Some people don’t bother checking and end up sitting on wet seats or chewing gum. The woman was spared the discomfort of sitting on the spilled water? Someone’s sweat or pee? Heaven knows what a weirdo had left behind on the seat.

I smiled and my migraine immediately receded. Sometimes we read too far into things. We read signals and hidden messages that are not actually there.

 

THROW A HAMMER LIKE THOR

THROW A HAMMER LIKE THOR

 

Several years ago, I spoke with my parents on phone and they told me something that piqued my curiosity. A new neighbor had moved into the flat next door and they had a beautiful daughter around my age. I hadn't visited my parents in a long time and I was dying to see them. Okay, fine! I admit it. I was dying to meet the daughter of the new neighbor which doesn't mean I was actually dying. You do get what I mean?

 

So I went to visit my parents. I took a long walk when I arrived with an impatient expectation of seeing the new girl on the block. We almost ran into each other as I turned a sharp corner at the far end of the street. She stopped, startled. The reports of her looks had not been exaggerated.

 

"Heavens above," I thought to myself.

"Oh my god!" she said. It was the first time a girl had said out loud that I was a god or her personal god. It was music to my ears.

 

Someone reading this may say, "Oh, stuff it. She only used that phrase as an exclamation of surprise." Well, that’s your personal opinion, isn't it? Meanings of words and phrases are situational and open to individual interpretation. I prefer to think she thought of me as a god. Like Thor, the hammer-wielding god of thunder and lightning. Throughout the ages, gods have left mere mortals in awe.

 

 

PUZZLING ENCOUNTERS

PUZZLING ENCOUNTERS

I had just started my banking career as an intern. I was young and inexperienced. My branch manager took me under her wing and was eager to share her wealth of knowledge and experience. She oversaw multiple branch locations.

 
I stood with her at the banking hall while she explained the rudiments of banking. As I listened with rapt attention, a customer walked into the branch. We paused our chit-chat and welcomed her.

"What can we do for you today?" asked the branch manager.

"I saw the mortgage brochure of your bank somewhere and I was wondering if I could get a copy of it."

"Sure," said the branch manager. "Give me a minute and I'll get it for you." As she turned away to get the brochure, the customer gave me the once over.

"Are you her manager?" she asked. A smile stole across my face. I didn't laugh, although my mouth twitched a few times. Why would she imagine I was the manager? I was a greenhorn. Was it because I was well groomed and wore my best suit? Was it because I was taller than the manager? I couldn’t say.

 

Another time, I went with an General Manager to a function. His hair was unkempt, his clothes scruffy; his eyes bloodshot. He was so thin he could enter if a door was opened just a tiny crack. He was having a personal challenge at this time. I didn't come with my car so we went together in his vehicle. He drove while I sat in the car's passenger seat. There was no parking space to be found when we got to the location. We drove towards the security post where a security guard stood.

I powered down the window and asked him where we could park.

"You go inside, Sir. We'll direct your driver where to park the vehicle."

I turned to look at the GM's face. He was livid. His hands shook on the steering wheel. I did as directed by the security guard.

THE WISHING WELL

TIHE WISHING WELL

 A couple came upon a wishing well. The woman made a wish and threw in a penny. She unclasped her watch and it accidentally fell into the well. The husband was stunned for a moment. It was a family heirloom. A legacy timepiece passed down for generations. He cared for the watch more than he did his wife.
 
"It's lost!" cried his wife.

"Not on my watch," said the husband. He jumped into the well and drowned. 

 
The wife smiled and said, ''It really works!"

The family heirloom was caught on a rock projection inside the well. From where it continued to tick. Will it hang there forever? Only time will tell. 

 *********************************************************************

A couple came upon a wishing well. The man was upset because his wife called everyone 'Darling' as she couldn't be bothered to remember their names. Even his name. The husband leaned over, made a wish and threw in a penny. The wife made a wish too, but she leaned over too much, fell into the well, and drowned. The husband was stunned for a moment but then smiled and said, "It really works!"

 *********************************************************************

A couple came upon a wishing well. The woman made a wish and threw in a penny. 

"Time flies when we're together," said the man.

"I hear it ticking," she said.

"You hear time ticking when we're together?"

"No, I hear a watch ticking. Must have fallen inside the well." The man thought that was ridiculous but he loved her too much to care that she heard strange things. It was time to make his move. He went on one knee and asked her to marry him. 

The woman was stunned for a moment but then smiled and thought, "It really works!"

First Impression versus Lasting Impression

First Impression versus Lasting Impression

They say you can't make a second first impression. You have only about 10 to 30 seconds to make that solid first impression. People assume in this first impression counts phenomena that a person's face, accent, clothes, handshake or gait is the window to their soul.

We test the firmness of the handshake. Does he have a firm grip? We conclude from a firm handshake that he or she must be self-assured, reliable and trustworthy. A limp handshake and he is a wuss. Probably not good in bed as well. Who cares if he broke his wrist last week while playing a vigorous game of tennis? We are talking about the here and now. First impressions. Style of clothing on the first date defines the individual.

We analyze gaits to infer psychological attributes. The ideal candidate is the person who walks into the room with 'purposeful' steps.

How do we process Facebook friend requests? He is wearing a suit and tilts his head on his profile picture. That must be a sign of pride. Is the chin tilted at an arrogant angle? Is he winking? Why did he cross his arms? He’s projecting a negative message of blocking out others. Quick judgments and simplistic misconceptions. You decline the Facebook friend request.

Your name could create the right or wrong first impression and make a huge difference. Yāshān Pahlavi (not his exact name but close enough) is a friend of mine. He left his family in Iran and migrated to the West where he perceived opportunities for a better life. In his new host-country he worked as a salesman with a telecommunication company. He had a good command of English with only the faintest trace of a foreign accent. But he found that whenever he introduced himself as Yāshān, he couldn't close a lot of sales. The name was like an oncoming meteor with an explosive impact, creating a large crater of pronunciation challenges which people fell into. After introducing himself, there was usually a cloud of swirling dust (first impression doubts in the mind), and then lights out. Sales died off, just like the dinosaurs.

Yāshān: My name is Yāshān. You requested a call back for our services. Is this a good time for you?

Customer: Your name is what? Where are you calling from? Where are you from originally? Why are you calling me? This is not a good time. Do you mind? I'm hosting guests for dinner.

Yāshān had a light-bulb moment. He was proud of his name and heritage but he needed to make sales. He decided to adopt the name Clayton during business hours. His numbers immediately hit the roof.

Yāshān: My name is Clayton. You requested a call back for our services. Is this a good time for you?

Customer: Sure. Let's get right into it, Clayton. Do you know my son is also called Clayton?

First impressions are relative easy to make and often overrated. It is the lasting impression that is the challenge. That's what counts in the long run.

 

 

 

COMPLIMENTS ARE FREE

COMPLIMENTS ARE FREE

 

Small gestures go a long way in building relationships and some things bear repeating.

 

Wife: You don't tell me you love me anymore.

Husband: I will let you know if my feelings change.

 

We all appreciate a genuine compliment now and then. Women love to be reassured and complimented. It makes them feel good about themselves. It doesn't matter if you have been together forever. At some point every one of us could use some reassurance, no matter how self-confident we are.

Misheard Lyrics

Misheard Lyrics

 

My friend sang along to the song that was playing and I realized he had got the words wrong. I corrected him and it ruined the song for him.

 

In the song 'Natural Mystic', Bob Marley sings: There's a natural mystic / Blowing through the air / If you listen carefully now you will hear.

 

My friend heard and sang a different version of the lyrics. When singing the song, he renders it as: There's a natural mistake / Blowing through the air / If you listen carefully now you will hear.

 

I pointed out that he's making a mistake. The correct word is mystic. He shook his head in dismay and looked sad afterwards.

 

His version is also valid though. If you listen carefully to news around the world, and what's blowing through the airwaves, you will hear crazy things. Awful mistakes happening around the globe. You come to realize it is a dog-eat-dog world. And the dog certainly isn't Rover or Lassie. This dog walks on two legs.

BASIC SIGNALS TRAINING

BASIC SIGNALS TRAINING

If you have to toss a coin to determine if a woman is hitting on you or not, then she's probably not hitting on you. It could also be that your hitting-on antenna is defective and not able to pick up signals. Some people miss both weak signals and sledgehammer hints.

Your boosted antenna should be able to scan and pick up hitting-on signals within a 100 miles radius after reading this. Let's get started. Here are some unmistakable signs that a woman has interest in you.

She's nervous when you meet like a smitten kitten. Purrs like a cat or smiles like an idiot. She laughs at even the hint of a joke. We all know you're not that funny. That’s how attraction works. Still keep your day job. Don't quit and venture into comedy.

She remembers stuff you tell her. She knows your moods and has a frown when you're down. She puts a lot of thought into your happiness and enjoys spending time with you. Open the window occasionally when you're together to let in some air. This will prevent both of you from choking on the strong fragrance of this attraction.

She tells you about the important stuff in her life and wants your opinion. She values your opinion on the deep fundamental questions of life. Coke or Pepsi?

It is not always about money. Her birthday doesn't come up twice every year with over-the-top celebrations that puts your bank account in the red.

There's body contact when communicating. She touches you when talking or making a point. Wants to hold hands. She often says 'we' in conversations about the future because you're now an unbeatable tag team. You're ideal teammates and potential champions in the WWE tag team professional wrestling category.

She's conscious of her appearance. Makes that extra effort to impress you. Puts some thought into her outfits and wants to look good knowing that you're going to meet. She wore the same skirt for an entire week because you said you like it.

She is a personal champion for you and your goals. She's proud of you and showers you with praise when you succeed. She goes on and on and on about you. Her best friends and family members are sick and tired of hearing about this awesome person. Enough already!

Congratulations! You have now completed your basic signals training. You have unlocked the seven signs of attraction. Now, go out with your optimized antenna. Your true love awaits.

INSTINCT VS LOGIC IN MATTERS OF THE HEART

 INSTINCT VS LOGIC IN MATTERS OF THE HEART

We must not be surprised if our instincts are not all that they should be in love. The sober truth is that sometimes we get it wrong with matters of the heart. You may get a flutter in your stomach and get lost in his or her eyes, but many people get lost in new places they visit, so I wouldn't read too much into it.

When someone leaves you breathless also remember that feeling out of breath is a common symptom of respiratory related ailments. It might be more important to seek medical attention rather than act on your instinct that wheezing is a sign from the heavens to get a date or phone number.

I once had a girlfriend who laughed at all my lame jokes and told me I was funny. She followed me everywhere like a smitten kitten. That, instinctively, is how attraction and love works, right? It was unnerving how she would follow me even to the bathroom and watch me do my business. She stuck to me like the spots on a Dalmatian and seemed to think I might escape through some secret rear door if she wasn't keeping a watchful eye on me.

It is a great feeling that someone needs you. But needing you the entire time is also an instinctive red flag. We all need some space or independence as adults.

Comparison to the Ex dulls the axe of any relationship. Instinctively, some people date those with a strong resemblance to their Ex. Their Ex becomes their “type” and this is probably an unhealthy cycle that they keep repeating. Great relationships require hard work but not on a permanent basis. Being in a relationship and ceaselessly trying to be more like the Ex is exhausting work. You will end up a frustrated, perpetual underachiever.

Truth is said in jest. That’s logical. Watch out for anyone you're in a relationship with who makes rude comments about you and then claim they were just joking. Such jokes are the truth spoken from the depths of their hearts.

 

EASY FINANCIALS

EASY FINANCIALS

 

We all probably have that one friend who disappears until he or she has a need. When Mike (not real name) calls I know he wants me to do a favor for him. He is constant through the seasons, unashamed and unbridled. I’m the sucker for always saying yes.

 

“Hello?” I said.
“Need your urgent help.” He spoke in a rush this time. Some of his words indistinct. The background noise did not help either. Loud music and lots of people talking at the same time. Was he at a party? I gathered he was broke again and living in topsy-turvy times. Life had taken a dark, dingy direction. He was behind on his rent. There was a list of endless calamities that had befallen him.

I tell him to calm down. He seemed about to lose his mind if he hadn’t lost it already.

“You’ve got to keep saying ‘yes’ when life says ‘no’. Find the positives to balance out the negatives,” I said.
“Words of wisdom are good. However, what I need right now is urgent financial help. Like right now. Nothing is too small.”

He clearly didn’t care for my nuggets of wisdom about life. That only added to his litany of woes and the many closed doors he faced. I didn’t have what he wanted from me though. I had just paid for a competitive and expensive course. But I promised to call back in a couple of minutes. Let’s see what I could do.

 

I waited for him to end the call. He thought I had ended the call. The background noise became clearer and I knew where he was. He was at his favorite Seaside Bar. I heard him chatting with the bartender and having a good time.

“Is your friend going to send the money?” An unknown female voice asked.
“Easy as ABC. Of course he will. That’s how I sort out my financials.” I had a mental picture of him winking at her and she laughed.
“Everything’s on me tonight. A round of drinks for everyone.”

 

I end the call and took a five-minute break to gather my wits and compose myself. Then I called him back.
“Did you need my bank account details?” he asked.

“This is Easy Financials. Easy as ABC…this bank is closed tonight,” I told him and switched off my phone.

THE NAKED TRUTH

THE NAKED TRUTH

We are not born with a shame of nudity. It is something we learn to conform and operate in human society. Animals are naked, even though some have furs, scales and feathers, but human beings are ashamed of being naked. We perceive it as a bad thing and avoid it. Society prohibits it.

Interviews are often nerve-wracking experiences but my most memorable and comfortable job interview was when I wore my birthday suit. I probably should have more interviews in the buff. I was relaxed and open during the entire session. I had sent a job application to a company and completed an online profile questionnaire. I was told to expect their call at any moment. In anticipation of this call, I went everywhere with my phone including the bathroom.

It was a Tuesday morning when the call came. I was having a shower and covered in soap suds when my phone started ringing. I immediately recognized the phone number. There was no time to rinse off the soap bubbles and towel-dry. I stepped out of the shower at full tilt and picked the call. The recruiting agent introduced himself and we exchanged preliminary greetings. I was without a stitch and water dripped down my unclad body. He gave me the lowdown on the role and how the company operates. I didn’t think it necessary to mention that I was stark-naked.

Recruiter: Is this a good time for you to have a formal interview? I’d like to ask you some quick questions based on the résumé you submitted.
Me: Absolutely. Go ahead.

I didn’t feel vulnerable in the raw. I was actually divested of any clothing discomfort. There couldn’t have been a better time.

Recruiter: Tell me about yourself.
He asked and so I unveiled myself to him bare-skinned. I got the job.

BLURRED LINES

 

BLURRED LINES

 

I began to hate Judith when she turned fifteen and grew breasts the size of watermelons. She is now eighteen and dashes about the tenement house in skimpy clothes. She talks loud in their single-room apartment so everyone can be tormented by the sound of her shrill, teenage voice. A cloud of bewitching fragrance follows in her wake when she walks down the passage.

 

Judith is my co-tenant’s daughter in our face-me-I-face-you apartment building. A housing system in which single rooms are built in two rows with a passage in-between that leads to the back of the house. Amenities like the kitchen and bathrooms are communal and located at the rear of the building.

 

The only child of her single mother, Judith draws the attention of the male gaze in the compound. The men whistle at her firm backside and seem disoriented by her coquettish charm. I am convinced the slip of a girl is trying to seduce my husband. Nobody else sees anything wrong when she gives him effusive welcome greetings as he comes back from the office.  

 

Welcome, sir. Good evening, sir. How was work, sir?

 

His eyes linger on her provocative hips for far too long, all the while grinning like an idiot. Judith genuflects to greet him in low cut revealing tops. Teasing my husband with her lovely, perky breasts. Her garish hair and makeup belie the childlike innocence of the teenager. 

 

The final straw was the dream I had last night. The power to dream lucid dreams that foretell the future is not given to everyone. With great power comes great responsibility. I must therefore act now and decisively too.

 

In the dream, Judith kissed my husband as they embraced under the shade of a mango tree. She stood tall with long black hair, round face, dimpled cheeks, pretty smile, and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her black, body-hugging top, which clung to her body like a second skin, showed off her ample bust. It was slutty fashion as far as I was concerned. Brothel style. She had both arms around his neck and crushed her voluptuous bosom against him. She only broke away when my shadow fell across them. As soon as she saw me, her greeting formed, but I choked it off before it could depart her lips. My face a gathering of nimbus clouds.

 

A hot searing pain went through my heart. It robbed me of my breath for some seconds. Sometimes in life we are sorely tested. I showed my clean palms to the clear blue sky; silent witness to this affront.

 

In my dream, she eventually stole my man and took over my matrimonial home. Heaven knows I won’t allow this happen in reality. In the physical realm, I knew I had to be one step ahead of my foe. That’s the reason I got a bottle of acid this morning. I wait for the wench in the passage with a predator's patience. I hum and pretend to adjust our white linen door curtain. As soon as she steps out of their room, smiling as usual like a demon from hell, I’d whip out the acid and douse her with it. Then watch her beautiful skin burn and melt before my eyes.

My First Formal Interview

My First Formal Interview

 

It was my first formal interview after graduation. I had done my research on the company. I knew their products and services like I knew the words of my favorite song. I got there early and sat in the waiting hall for about an hour.

The three interviewers in the interrogation room wore formal dark suits. They introduced themselves, talked a bit about the institution, asked me a few polite ‘hope you had no trouble parking’ questions and then launched straight into it. I was well-groomed and gave everyone a firm handshake. I sat up straight, shoulders back, head high. I maintained eye contact during the entire process. I don’t think I even blinked. In hindsight, that must have come across as weird. My expensive cologne was, however, my masterstroke. They may not have seen me coming but they certainly could smell my presence.  

Thirty minutes of grueling interview by the panel of three, including the branch manager, and I was looking good — if I do say so myself. The branch manager was in his late forties and looked ex-military. He fired a salvo of questions like rapid machine gun fire and I waltzed through them. Then he got a dark glint in his eye and pulled out his big gun. As they say, all good things must come to an end.

“Here,” he said, giving me sheets of paper, glue and scissors. “Can you make us animals out of paper shapes? Show us an elephant and a lion.”

“Are you kidding me?” I thought.  I had a feeling it was a trick question. “I don’t know how to make animals out of paper shapes.” I said.

Two minutes ago, I was doing so fine. I felt a film of sweat on my forehead. My hands trembled, my confidence dipped and I felt my panic levels rise. The manager shook his head and gave me that “You don’t look like you can work in this organization” facial expression. 

I veered off the good road and went over the embankment. My confidence level hit rock bottom. I stumbled on every other question after that. I even lost my voice and asked for a drink of water. It was pathetic.

At the end of the drill, the manager shook hands with me, thanked me, said the traditional they would "be in touch." I constantly replayed every minute of the interview session over and over in my mind. The paper shapes question threw me out of kilter for the rest of the interview. My interviewers had worked the latch, pushed the door open, and shoved me back into the labor market.

Can You Read Minds?

Can You Read Minds?

I still need to hone my mind-reading skills. To peer into the mind of others, one needs to understand the meaning of their words and monitor the tone and cadence of speech. Facial expression and body language are also important. However, our minds often filters such information through our biases and we can miss the cues completely.

I was hiking on a trail recently. It worked its way through the trees offering beautiful views along the way of a large lake. The winding trail and trees prevented me from seeing the young couple ahead of me, but I could hear their laughter and interesting dialogue. Their conversation had sexual undertones flashing like a neon sign all over it.

Her: Why do you have such a small one?

Him: It's not the size that matters...

Her: That's some consolation. It won't last more than two minutes and you know it.

Him: That depends on the weather, doesn’t it?

Her: (laughing) What's the weather got to do with anything?

Him: We tend to drink more water when the weather is hot.

I hurried up the trail and came upon the pair. They were part of a hiking party and were talking about his small, plastic water bottle. Whatever undertone I had earlier sensed from the components of their conversation was a figment of my own imagination.

 

Surprise Me!

Surprise Me!

 

I visited Morocco in 2011. I heard it was a beautiful country with a rich culture and history. I looked forward to the desert tours on camels trekking through the dunes. I was open to adventure and not drawn to any one particular tourist attraction.

 

After a few minutes staring at the map of prospective sites, I said to my private tour guide, “Surprise me!"

 

"Sir, you want to see the Atlas Mountain, Ouzoud falls, or the Marrakech museum? We also have the Draa Valley and Bahia Palace. But there's no such place as “Surprise Me” in Morocco," he said.

 

I told him to take me to his favorite places then. “Surprise Me” was probably still under construction.

HIGH MAINTENANCE

HIGH MAINTENANCE

 

It was our first date after we met online and developed a mutual spark. We agreed to have dinner and watch a movie. She picked the movie and I chose the restaurant. I don’t remember her name now. But she had jaw-dropping beauty, a contagious smile and engaging wit.

 

We met at the bustling and sprawling City Mall. A tight, black mini dress accentuated her curves in all the right places. Her mahogany skin shone like lacquer. She wore a pretty and sparkly diamond necklace with a heart-shaped pendant. I couldn't help but stare like a fool. The sunlight struck the facets of the pendant and a prism of rainbows enveloped us where we stood. A picture-perfect ambience for a first date.

 

We were the cynosure of all eyes. She held onto my arm and we went into the state-of-the-art multi-screen cinema at about 7pm. I don't remember much about the movie plot. Things got awkward as soon as we plonked down in our seats.

 

She was sandwiched between me and an overweight, bearded gentleman in the aisle seat. He was an older man with glasses and grey hair. I had no issue with the beard or his waistline, but I don't like rude movie talkers. People who run live commentaries. My date and the portly gentleman struck up a conversation and gave us loud unsolicited opinions about the movie. She'd lean into him, touch his arm and say something about the plot. He'd break out in uncontrollable laughter with his hand on her thigh or placed across her shoulders. He was probably old enough to be her grandfather. She didn’t seem to mind the wandering hand. Their talk went on and on, and on, and on like an annoying alarm that has no off switch or snooze button. It was not cool at all. They drew angry glares, but I don’t think they even noticed. I chomped on my popcorn and watched the big screen with all the enthusiasm of a deflated balloon. My bright red balloon had become a sad scrap of rubber. 

 

We walked out of the theatre and she reached out and held my hand. Grandpa stood nearby at the ticket stand, watching us and stroking his beard. I glowered at him and he slunk away. His enormous belly quivered as he navigated his way.

"He's going the other way," I told her.

"Who?"

''Your friend with the beard." 

She smiled and gave me an apologetic look, but my face was sour, stern and disapproving. I said nothing more to her until we got to the restaurant. The expensive Chinese restaurant served great food and was located at the crowded food court of the mall. She was excited as we perused the menu and placed our orders. I wanted a plate of sizzling beef with black bean. She ordered spring rolls, chicken feet, spare ribs, egg tarts, black truffle dumplings, rice noodles, jelly fish and fried cod. Her meal was heaped on three plates. She almost cried in anticipation of the food. 

"You must be really hungry," I remarked.

She nodded. "I'm famished." 

The portions seemed too big for one person. But then, the long running commentary with the portly gentleman was exhausting work and she needed to replenish her energy. 

 

She called the waiter and placed orders for takeaways. I realized this was greed, not actual hunger. The vibes were troubling. 

“I have a roommate. She must be really hungry now,” she said at my raised eyebrow.

 

At the end of the long evening, we walked to my car at the parking lot. I had called a cab for her. We were headed in opposite directions and she had three takeaway bags.

"I'd need some money from you,” she said. Her bags were on the hood of my black SUV as we waited for her Uber ride.

"Money for the cab? Don't worry. I will take care of it."

"Not just for the cab," she replied and reached in her purse. She took out a folded slip of paper. It had a list of items and she started reading in a monotone. She needed money for her house rent, new wardrobe, eye surgery, dental work...

 

Her voice was like knives in my eardrum and caused me physical agony. As she continued reading, I glanced around the parking lot. Where was portly grandpa when you needed him to collect his new girlfriend? He probably wasn't with us anymore.