Clueless Guys Shopping

Three guys are talking and looking at stuff at a mall. One of them is trying to buy a gift for his mother. The other two are helping him decide what to pick.

ARUN: Will you two stop staring at that girl and do something useful?

MANJIT: Will you look at that douche bag? How the hell do girls fall for these idiots?

IMRAN:
 Dude, if you are gay, just tell us? We won’t judge. I mean, there is a perfectly hot girl over there and all you can see is her lapdog?

MANJIT:
 Screw you!

ARUN:
 C’mon you guys! Help me! They all look the same to me. Why do women need to carry these stupid bags anyway? I mean, it cannot be only for makeup items. The other day I saw a girl about this tall (pointed to his waist), and she was carrying a bag bigger than a 6-year old kid. If all she was carrying was makeup, then I honestly pray that her boyfriend doesn’t see her in the morning.

MANJIT:
 That makes me wonder actually. There is a very good possibility that I might end up with an arranged marriage. What if my parents fall for the advertisement and when I open the package, there is a completely different product?

IMRAN:
 Oh, don’t worry. In your case, it would be the opposite. Your parents will paint such a Pandit Gangadhar image of you before the wedding that when she finally learns the truth about your kaminapanti, she will elope with the milkman.
(Ducks Manjit’s punch and turns to Arun)
Right, so what were you thinking bringing us along to buy ladies bags? We have as much experience with these things as Mr. Douche Bag over there has with books.

ARUN:
 I just didn’t want to be embarrassed alone. Anyway, what do you think of this one? (Shows a green leather purse) 

MANJIT:
 Nah, too small.

IMRAN:
 He is right. Considering our experience in ladies accessories, it would be better if we stick to what we know.

ARUN:
 What, geometry?

MANJIT:
 Well, yeah. Your mom is not going to like any bag you choose. Therefore, the best you can do is get her something that can at least hold some money.

ARUN:
 Dude, she is my mom. She will like anything I buy.

MANJIT:
 That is exactly the point. Only because you, her son, are buying the bag.

ARUN:
 All right, let’s ditch the bag idea. How about saris?

IMRAN:
 I think I saw the sari section over there, but we have to walk past the lingerie section. You two go along. I don’t want to look any creepier than I’m feeling right now.

(They go to the sari section, dragging Imran physically)


ARUN: 
All right, so what do you know about saris?

MANJIT: 
Uh, they are long?

ARUN: 
Would you cut it out with the dimensions, already? Sheesh! What do you think, Imran?

IMRAN:
 I think…if that chick over there at the counter had more hair on her upper lip, she could have participated in that moustache competition, My Hair Lady.

ARUN: 
Oh My God! You two are such useless pieces of shit!

MANJIT: Woah, woah! Chill dude! Cut out the profanity. Aunties will start judging us.

IMRAN: (Under his breath) As if they aren’t already. Three jobless youths loitering around the lingerie section.

ARUN: All right, let’s go and check some sari designs then. Let me know if you find anything interesting.

(After checking out a few saris, they pull out one of them)

ARUN: Okay, so why is there no tag on this one? How do I know whether it’s silk or not?

MANJIT: You are supposed to know that from the touch. You see there are various kinds of silks that are used for making saris, like the Benarasi sari.

ARUN: What else?

MANJIT: How would I know?

IMRAN: Do you even know anything of substance?

MANJIT: I know more than you.

IMRAN: Yeah? Like what?

MANJIT: Like the fact that the tent-like thing over there is called a maxi or nightie. Or that, those tight suffocating pants that the mannequin is wearing are called leggings.

IMRAN: Okay, Versace, we know what a maxi is and what leggings are.

ARUN: Hey, that makes me think about one thing. Why do some aunties greet their guests wearing maxis? I mean they will put a dupatta over their heads, but forget that they are wearing nightclothes.

IMRAN: Oh, man, I know. I hate that too. It’s like, “Oh, hey kids, would you like some cookies? And by the way, don’t I look great in my balloon gown?”

ARUN: Exactly! And they will say it while baring their wrestler arms as if to say, “So why aren’t you eating my cookies?”

IMRAN: I know! By the way, have you noticed that when they are flexing their muscles, they shout something back to their husbands with a voice of death, and again turn back to you in a sing-songy voice and go, “Ooh, teehee!” I mean what in the world is that. Is that supposed to pacify my fears or something?

MANJIT: Whoa, whoa, my mom does that! How dare you mock her?

IMRAN: Oops, sorry dude. No offence to your mom. She is different you know. I was just talking about other aunties. (Exchanges sheepish looks with Arun)

(Sensing trouble, Arun takes the initiative)

ARUN: Okay this is not working. I don’t have any clue whatsoever about saris. For instance, this one time my mother complained to my dad that some particular design on her sari was making her look old. I checked the design and there were these straight lines kind of things printed on the fabric. I spent the next few hours looking up the relationship between straight lines and old age. I never found the exact connection; although I did discover that ladies pump shoes actually do not have tiny gear pumps installed in them; and that women blurt like ten times more words than men in one day, which is the alleged source of their power of nagging. Anyway, forget about saris. Let’s go for something a bit more vanilla, you know.

MANJIT: Thank god! If you had listened to me the first time, we would be feasting on tandoori chicken by now.

IMRAN: Oh please! Getting his mother an Adidas cap? Really? How do you not fall over while walking?

ARUN: Guys, guys, cut it out, okay. Look over there, hot girl at 2 o’clock. Wanna go over and say hi?

BOTH IN UNISON: Yeah…right!

ARUN: Your choice. In that case, let’s go and look for something less unique. I’m thinking an expensive pen will do.

IMRAN: Of course, it will do. Soon we will be accompanying you on grocery shopping trips looking for adha kilo piyaz and do kilo atta while referring to a slip handwritten with Sheaffer ink.

MANJIT: You can give her a scarf.

IMRAN: Tum chup raho yaar. Tumse nahi ho payega. What the hell will she do with a scarf in July?

MANJIT: Okay, Einstein, why don’t you suggest something, rather than pathetically attempting to sharpen your sarcasm on us?

ARUN: Yeah. What do you suggest, Imran?

IMRAN: It’s quite simple really. Just give her a hug.

MANJIT: Can we go and eat now?

 

Advertisements

31 thoughts on “Clueless Guys Shopping

  1. Hiba

    This is what it’s like to be with my friends. Literally.
    Except just switch the part about staring at hot girls to staring at hot boys.
    And none of the work gets done either.
    Lol, This was fun to read. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Hiba

        Haha there are, you won’t even believe one of my friends. She shamelessly started rating a guy that stood right next to us outside the mall in Urdu, assuming that he was Lebanese judging from his looks and she kept going “yaar Hiba, Kia lagra hai…”
        Turned out the guy was a Pakistani who turned to us and told her “number doon?”
        I died that day.

        Liked by 4 people

  2. What do you know about a sari? I died laughing there!! My hair lady – very intelligent writing, though it’s painful as hell getting them threaded, waxed, bleached whatever so leave the poor female alone.
    This was hilarious and so much fun to read as usual 😉
    P.S. : My mother never likes what I buy for her. :/

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Haha, I have no clue whatsoever regarding saris. I swear, length is all I know 😀 And yeah, I feel for you people. Waxing looks like the baap of ripping off band aids.
      But thank you Adi for the sincere comment as usual.

      Liked by 1 person

  3. lol 😀 well I had been rescuer of my friends sometimes when they had to buy something for their mother/sister/bhabhis .. next time take help from a female colleague or friend and buy online :D:D will save your time but we will miss a good story!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Lol. Haan theek kaha aapne. Next time I’ll see if I can find a female friend to help us out. But I doubt she would be able to stand such an obnoxious bunch. She might argue so much that I might be forced to write another story.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. I used to sing to a distant cousin of mine: “Aye haseena moochonwaali jaane jahan..”… needless to say the attention was not reciprocated…
    but this got me thinking.. why not put up a disclaimed there that Imran Ershad?? Hehehe 😀 ah yes, wait.. the lingerie section thing.. will not do, will not do… 😀 ok, good thinking..

    Liked by 1 person

    1. We had a female teacher back in school who used to have the kind of moustache adolescent males have (the smooth kind you know, unlike the cactus that seems to develop later on). She used to dress all neat and wear all this makeup, but never got those special hairs removed. I guess she was of the school of thought “Mooch nahi toh kuch nahi.”

      Liked by 1 person

      1. hahaha… I know what you mean.. there was this librarian.. who used to have such a thing… really beautiful creature and I used to stare at her face… all the while.. oh why, oh why could you not be born normal… and she used to blush thinking that my attention was on her lips.. woe is me..
        She was beautiful alright.. but rotten voice.. like a crow (incidentally, how funny that there is some justice after all.. give beauty, take away the voice.. listen to aishwarya, deepika padukone.. horrible voices)… and she would also talk like the quintessential bihari that she was… “des ke naujawaan”, “phirst aaya kilaas mein” led me to think.. zaroor, aap ki to kilaas hee nahein hai… and then my heart was hardened.. no, not for me.. this temptress from dehaat, not for me 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I know exactly what you mean. 😀
        I was in this wedding once where there was this woman. Really beautiful and all, but once she opened her mouth, OMG that voice and her native Assamese drawl was like ugggh. Spare me meri maa.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Hehehe… meri maa…?? how fickle you are, dear brother.. so what do I end up calling her through the perambulations of your mind through the next 15 minutes when you ogle that girl?
        arey bhaabi…. and then post- the voice-revelation, arey chaachi…

        Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s