This is being issued in public interest, where public amounts to people who stand to get hurt and mutilated, and experience pain and humiliation, at my hands. Unless, of course, they enjoy the masochistic treatment, in which case, I take payments up-front for those services.
Anybody found violating these tenets laid out below will be adjudged to be violating my sentiments, which, I must add, are even more fragile of late.
1. Wearing unpolished shoes: I am all for calf leather, even camel and alligator leather, but what I am utterly not for are unpolished, unkempt shoe hygiene. If I can’t see my face shining back at me, I get self-esteem issues. So, please, if you are around me, make sure you glaçage!
2. Breathing: My chakras go into a free-wheeling spin every time you breathe fast. It is akin to the flight stewardess shouting ‘Emergency!’ as she runs down the aisle. So, don’t. Also, don’t breathe too slow because then it appears as if I am breathing faster because I am anxious and that makes me anxious.
3. Standing too close to me: God resides in all of us, but given how I have expanded recently (I am possibly affording her a 4BHK duplex with a patio just in my upper torso), I am sure she mostly resides in me nowadays. But that’s not the point. What is, is this: by standing too close to me you are desecrating a place of worship. So back off and give me, nay, God, some space.
4. When you see my meme but don’t LOL heartily: It says ‘read’, then I see you typing, but then I don’t see anything turn up, and then after typing for a long time all I get is a “Haha”. Why you gotta’ play me like that?
5. Dressing up: I don’t care if you like your saffron wrapped around you or as a garnish in your martini, I just care if it comes from Prada’s upcoming SS line. Always dress shady around me. Prancing about in anything that I covet but don’t have hurts my delicate build-up. Why, you’d sooner throw me in the pig pen and rub my face in the slush, you ignoramus brute.
6. Food: Every time a chef ruins a good steak, or a stack of ribs, somewhere a part of me (also) dies. Stop killing your food twice. If you can’t respect good cuts, stick to vegetables. Or reheat frozen foods and steer clear of imagination. This is sacrilege of (g)astronomic proportions. Yes, I’ve been waiting to use that one for some time.
7. Uber: Do not give me a less than 5-star rating! I put up with your lack of orientation, your vague sense of following directions, I even tolerated the under-powered air conditioner which was only good for airing dirty old socks (and possibly precisely what it had been used for insofar), and I didn’t once comment on your unabated enthusiasm for crass Bollywood music. If anything, I deserve six stars, a pat on the back, and stock options with Uber. Every time I see my 4.7 rating, a loathsome chill runs down my spine.
This column is for anyone who gives an existential toss.
