In Iceland, they have frostitutes. Frostitutes and pimps can create deep hole in your pockets. And this can fuck up your lodge-istics. Step out of the CST railway station [Victoria Terminus] in Mumbai after midnight. You’ll spot taxis lit with blue lights from the inside. These are pimps. Or else, you’ll find prostitutes standing on the streets. Well, blue light area where red films are made? Oops. The other way round.
Forget Taxi drivers, even Auto wallahs can literally ‘pimp’ the ride in every sense. On my way back home in a student town at 2:00 A.M., after a decent dose of O.M. [Old Monk], as I fondly call it. I was traveling in an auto. The whole town was leapt by a suicidal silence, you could probably hear a few intermittent noises of dogs howling. And I used to live behind this place called Baliga Lodge, and I have no clue what was wrong about that place. The auto driver began talking.
Me: Uncle Baliga Lodge ke peechhe jaane ka hai
Auto Driver: *while driving* aaj raat ke liye ladki chahiye kya?
Me: Nahi nahi! Baliga chal! Ladki nahi chahiye.
Auto Driver: Lekin boss Sushma ready hai.
Me: Mujhe ghar jaana hai. Ladki nahi chahiye.
Auto Driver:Lekin boss! Sushma ready hai.
And then he delved into details, asking how many room-mates are there. Price per session and what not! I just rushed to my place, also because I had to use the toilet. But the door was locked from the inside, and my room-mate was drunk-asleep. I was locked outside. Though it doesn’t sound right. You can’t get locked outside. Getting locked inside is suffocating. Depends upon which world is my real home, inside or outside.