If, let’s say, you wanted to go shopping in Bangalore on any given Saturday or Sunday you would feel like you were trying to wade your way through the last minutes shoppers in the mall on the day before Christmas Eve. There are humans as far as the eye can see in all directions; sifting through dupatttas and saris, bending over “imitation jewelry,” and examining all manner of sequined and gold studded sandals. They are used to each other. They bump into each other and ricochet off in all directions. They push through and push past, and they tell you to get out of the way for the V-V-VIPs.

I was looking for some elusive place to sit down and plug my ears with music and mind my own business. I wandered all around Bangalore looking for this place. Sometimes I can find these places- the corner of the book store, (crowded) the back of a café, (crowded) the outside courtyard of a fancy hotel (score!) I searched and searched and finally ended up in my own neighborhood. I walked all around the mall and hotel and located a little table on the edge of the terrace-facing the garden in the Leela Palace Hotel.

I had just plugged in the music and turned on my computer. I was settling into my fabulous new spot when a hotel employee came to me and said, “Would you mind moving into the lobby for just five minutes? We are getting a V-V-VIP.” And he didn’t have a stutter.

I’ve been spending most of my free time (which is all my time) today being annoyed about stupid crap, and this rubbed me the wrong way. I guess I don’t look good enough in my jeans and T-shirt to be sitting on the terrace when the V-V-VIP comes in. Or maybe it’s a security issue. I don’t see how that can be the case since now I’m sitting in the lobby where if I wanted to murder the Very-Very-Very Important Person I’d have an even better shot at it.

Now it’s been 30 minutes and no V-V-VIP so far.
30 minutes after that: The V-V-VIP has arrived- it’s nobody I want to murder. I bet these police with sticks are relieved that they don’t have to beat me into submission for my crime of annoyance.