Ek Glassy, do glassy...

‘Honey…’ I say in a melodious voice
‘Yeah?’ asks hubby warily. ‘You know those headaches I’ve been having?’
‘um-hmmm’ he says even more warily. ‘Well, I think we should do something about it. I plan to visit the opthal tomorrow.’ I say.
‘You mean they were real? Wow. OK. Yes. Opthal. Good.’ Says much relieved Hubby.

Evening, at Opthal.

‘Place your chin here please’ says Doc- pointing to a large intimidating thingummy. I do. ‘erm…. Rest your forehead as well..’ say amused doc- I had poked the chin forward and was looking like I was ready to bay at the moon.- which apparently is not how they check eyes nowadays. After looking at an ice-cream truck and white picket fences with both eyes for a while I hear… ‘hmmmm…’ ‘Interesting. Very Interesting.’ - Now that is not what you want anybody who’s peering into your eyes- who’s not drunk or your romantic love-interest, to say.
‘What? What??’ I ask nervously.
‘ hmmm… lucky… I wonder…’ murmurs Doc, to himself, completely ignoring a sweating me on the chair.
Finally, he pushes the machine away, thrusts an owlish looking frame upon me and asks me to read the gibberish alphabets chart. As I real the Last line… ‘ P N O U…’
‘No? hmmm… now? Yes, yes… I see…’
He sees? He sees?? Well, I don’t… Isn’t that why I was there? And things had only become foggier…

After a series of swapping glasses, and flashing blinding lights into my eyes, he says, ‘Yes. Are you driving?’
Startled by this sudden change in subject, I stammer ‘eh? Who? Me? Now? Right. No.’
He lapses back into silence with only annoys me more.. not only does he pass sweeping statements like ‘interesting’ and ‘lucky’ while peering into my eyes, he’s now taken to asking me about my driving habits and then going into these pensive silences… well, ok… so I forget to give that occasional hand signal (while turning, you perverts, not the one you gave to the boor honking his horn behind you), and yes, there was that one time when I had parked illegally for five minutes, but I failed to see what business it was of his… ‘ Good. The nurse will put some drops into your eye that will blur your vision for the next six hours.’ he said, interrupting my thoughts. Oh. I saw all… or rather was about to not-see at all in the next couple of minutes.

Five minutes later…
‘hmmm…’ said doc. I wished he would expand his vocabulary. Even eskimos have only so many words for ‘snow’.
‘so whats the verdict, Doc?’ I ask, looking at what I though was his face.
‘you’ll have to wear glasses, of course.’ Said a voice from behind me. I whipped my head around- I had been talking to Doc’s reflection. Further proof that I needed glasses, I guess. Glasses? That was the reason I was termed ‘lucky’ and ‘interesting’? feeling oddly deflated at such a mundane reason for the excitement, I staggered out into the waiting area, trying to stuff the prescription into my bag- and succeeding after 3 attempts. Back in the Doc’s cabin I could hear the voices floating out…’hmmm… inetresting…’ followed soon after by a panicky ‘what? Eh?’
Poor Sod. I could have told him he needed glasses.

BRNAD DEAD!

well, Brad, as usual, had something to say about the last post. And here it was. So, naturally, I had something to say about that! enjoy!!

Dilli, we have a problem, yaar!

In a bid to streamline the admistration, my company has decided to print all cards/ stationery and other sundry accessories centrally from 'dilli'. Which is great, provided,
a. I get my Cards on Time (which does NOT roughly translate to sometime in this decade)
b. I don't have to handle annoying administration guys suggesting that in the meanwhile I use a colleagues card, and scratch out his name and put mine instead.
c. When I DO get the cards, I'd be ecstatic, if they'd please, please not coin new acronyms for my position, and just manage to get the spellings right.

Right. For now I'm stuck with cards with read 'Sense- BRNAD SOLUTION (pliss to note the singular) MANAGER.

My clients now have the pleasure of choosing between scratched out, overwritten- cards, or ones which introduce me as a BRNAD Solution manager. Can we get the weekend here a bit sooner?

Godfather to the fore!

Conversation between Brad and Godson!

Can also be seen Here, Here & Here

wORK wEEK

I'm celebrating a week at work. Well, OK, celebrations would be pushing it... people in my office are already looking shifty-eyed and start shuffling their feet when asked whether my joining was a good thing. Thankfully I have a thick hide, and refuse to take hints, so I simply carry on the back-thumping and the bush-esque shoulder massaging as if I didn't notice poeple scurrying for cover when they see me approach.
I must say this for the workplace though- they stand up to punishment well. I suppose it goes with the territory when you're selling media. here's an example of a typical conversation:
(over the phone)
Colleague: Hey... It's me. I'm not with ABC anymore. Yeah, I'm with XY....
Client (cutting Colleague off in Mid-flow): oh, ah... I'm tied up can you call back a bit later?
Colleague( as if no interruptions occured): sure thing.. in fact. I'll call you back. Just tell me when.
Client (pushed into a corner): er... afternoon? sure... bye!

Come afternoon...*brrrrring* *brrrrring*
metallic voice: the person you are trying to reach cannot take your call. Please leave a message at the beep.
Grrrrr!

Same Colleage and Same client, after the magazine hits the stands, and he finds his ad in the wrong posish.
Client: hey! it's me. I saw the ad. What's...
Colleague (getting her own back): hey... I'm sorry, but you've caught me at the worst time possible. Could you send me a mail on this?
Client (seething and vowing to wait till colleague comes back for business): sure, and I'll mark a CC to my boss and your boss.
Colleague (distractedly): oh? Oh. seeya then.

Next month: Colleague and client at it again.
Colleague: Hey... It's me. could we meet up ? i've got this great idea....
Client (cutting Colleague off in Mid-flow): oh, ah... I'm tied up can you call back a bit later?

-And so it goes. The Office. The best place to watch karma bite you in the arse.

All in a Day's work

*Beep* *Beep* - said a beligerent phone at 2:30 am. Then only reason I even heard the darned thing was because I had just woken up to feed Pickwick. Mercifully, Pickwick slept right thru' the cacophony.
Muttering dire threats at whoever was at the other end, I picked up the phone to see who wished to commit Harakiri. 'Twas the boss. Or soon-to-be Boss. Darn. Plans of wanting to see the colour of his insides dropped. For now. (which reminds me of a classmate who once insisted on calling all our undies 'insides' for the duration of the entire study tour. These insides are not the insides I refer to in my post. Just in case a few random readers had similar thoughts)
Bleary eyed I read the message- and Goggle. The chap wants me to call up some female in the morning and tag along with her as she heads to office at the other side of town!!! You may well wonder why I goggled. I mean, that doesn't seem like such an absurd request, does it? Ah, but there were wheels, as they say, within wheels.
Let me start at the beginning. Skipping early evolution and other trivial matters, I shall move on to the matter in Q. After a nine-month hiatus, I had decided to join the ranks of the gainfully employed. My first day was supposed be the first of December. Boss-man- who's a Diliwallah was to make a trip a couple of days prior and get me up to speed, so to speak before tossing me into the thick of things. As luck would have it, Boss-man cometh and boss-man goeth- all without having an opportuinity to have the tete-a-tete. So, boss-man sayeth- No point starting tomorrow. Take the weekend to mull over material (which he promised he'd be sending over the mail), and start afresh Monday. Good, I say. Great, even. Weekend to prep up, and Monday morning, shall be In My Element.
By Sunday evening, the plan seems to have developed a slight flaw- no mail in sight from Boss-man. No answer to frantic phonecalls. Ah. Oh well, I think. Tomorrow we shall try again, I think.
Only, that night- at 2:30 to be precise is when Boss-man replies! Now you see why I goggle!
All right, no reason to panic. We shall meet aforementioned lady, and she will give me the goods, I think. Only, Lady is Late, has no clue who I am and what I'm there for.
Office isn't much better. No one in office knows I'm joining up. So naturally no one knows what I'm supposed to be doing. Er... I shall spent the day constructively blogging about it. And I would, only apparently, there are just so many workstations, and a tad too many people. Long tea breaks? Naah- the tea is delievered into your hands! So I now know every story that was printed in yesterday's paper. Go on- ask me what was printed on page 4 of the entertainment supplement. Or page 6 of the main supplement. I shall tell you verbatim. Still, there's only so much time you can spend with your nose buried in the newspaper. So I did the only thing any good new employee would do- disrupt Work and engage everyone in so much chit-chat that nothing constructive was done by anyone for the better part of the day. Finally deciding they've had enough of me, they politely told me I could leave early (they tried hinting at first, but I was too dense to get it. They had to spell it out for me).

This morning, trying to head off trouble early on, they have given me my own workstation. I think I'm going to like it here. They catch on quick.

Pickwick Capers

Did a few rudimentary toons on strip creator- here they are
MOre to follow post refinement.