Hunger... Something that governs more or less everything... More, than less...

Effects everyone... probably except Baba Ramdev and his kind... Affects everything... of course keeping in mind the various forms of hunger, not just the base one in relation to the complicated system involved with the functioning of the human body... which was what I was a victim of last night...like most nights... and days... and afternoons... and evenings... dawn, dusk, twilight, midnight, you know the vein...

But being indulgent and proportionately lazy, I decided to fall back on the one of the popular consumerist invaders of the Indian food culture... Home Delivered Pizza... Although a big fan of anything with cheese (Even Shahrukh Khan dancing to promote his band of golden helmetted warriors) the Indianised versions of the Italian eat do seem a bit dubious and over ambitious, but whatever... If it can be eaten, then I eat.

I have ordered Pizzas before... I'm sure two sixth of urban population has ordered a pizza over the phone... And I believe I am quite proficient at this business of ordering for stuff- not that I'm spoilt, keeping the fact aside, even If I am. But this one pizza , made me earn it...

No... Its no longer as easy as picking up your phone, dialing a number and asking the polite stranger at the other end to send some life sustaining food and beverages to your doorstep... No it isn't, as I found out for myself... You have to be prepared for a deluge of pleasantaries and other lines learnt by heart and shot off at you at speeds MIGS will have to reckon with... Quite bewildering... enough to make you forget what you were making the call for... If that wasn't enough you have to deal with questions that seem obscenely personal, bombarded at you in a very indifferent manner, but then you realise its just an appropriately food related question which sounded wierd just because all your attention wasn't directed at the one point of concentration- the painfully polite person, following his training and rattling off amusingly flowery small talk, in the tone of the Impaled in a hurry to give up on Life...

Sometimes I'm lost for words... I don't know whom to pity... The order-taker, Me, my poor rumbling stomach or the neighbour I see drying clothes through the window...

It took me 9 minutes to place one order... While another person could've done it nine times over in the same amount of time... Is it a shortcoming on my part? I don't know... but the "event" did have me pulling my wavy locks off in frustration... yes... it was frustrating enough for me to blog about it... Funnily enough, a customer care personnel called me a moment ago to enquire about my Pizza experience... If only you knew, woman...

You know what else is Blog worthy...?

A strange request... A very, Very Strange request... From a member of the kind of Adam... For a curious article of feminine use... Not even a transvestite could want it... or need it... and I thought I knew him very well and nothing about him could surprise me anymore... You can't trust anything anymore and I'm not one to prod... Hell, if I could spend this much time over an epic order for pizza, then I'm no one to have problems with anyone else's quirkiness... or maybe he was just stashing away for a lady friend on a rainy day... I would say, that's very considerate... But I'm extremely amused... at the embarrasment I can cause just by the default of belonging to a sex.

And I have my own bone to pick with the service industry, which isn't making my life as easy as it evidently intends to...It just adds to the troubles of life... amusing, new, intriguing ones...