Killing the Red God

A serialization of my novel, "Killing the Red God". | Copyright: Hari Kumar | website: www.harismind.com | If this is your first visit, please start from the bottom (start of Chapter 1)

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Location: Singapore, Singapore

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Chapter 2 -- Part 11

Author's Note:
For reading the first chapter, you may download it in Acrobat PDF format from here (Click here!)
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Now for the latest instalment....

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The invites tapered off and, thankfully, we soon became forgotten in the social circuit, when I politely turned down many of the subsequent invitations.

During the early years, when she wasn’t working, she whiled away her time reading women’s magazines, the newspaper, management books, weighing her breasts, keeping track of her waistline, loitering around Shenton Way, calling up her bridge-pals etc. These were certainly more important than the dreary, thankless chores of the home. Then after Pooja was packed off to India, she found a job as a front office assistant for a medium range hotel.

One Friday evening, after five months on the job, she came back from work in her natty maroon uniform and threw her handbag on the couch with much ferocity. “What do these pigs think I am, huh? A smiling machine? None of us at the reception protested when last week they introduced a rule saying that all front office staff should smile at our guests and — you wouldn’t believe this — must show at least eight teeth when doing so. Eight teeth! Can you believe it?! Eight fucking teeth, like a fucking Dinosaur!” her cheeks were flushed with rage, “We thought it was just a joke. How the hell are they gonna implement it? We asked ourselves. But then, on Tuesday they install a camera pointing at us. And yesterday I get this insane memo from the management saying that out of the thirty-one guests I serviced on Wednesday, on twenty eight occasions not more than four of my teeth were visible. CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? I rush to my supervisor and tell the fat bitch with all my politeness: ‘Madam, please understand, my mouth is small. I have small, sexy lips. If I show eight of my front teeth, my face will split into two.’ and she replies in a condescending tone, ‘How come everyone else can do it, but you?’ I tell you, this pisses me off. So I tell her, ‘because everyone else has a BIG BLOODY MOUTH. Like yours.’ She gets up, shakes her droopy tits, says, ‘I don’t want to talk to you,’ and storms off in a huff. Within a minute the manager calls me. A tired old white man with a face like the Hush Puppies Bassett Hound’s. He gives me a long fucking lecture. About rules and regulations and this and that. About service quality, ISO, continual improvement and all such meaningless gibberish. He says: ‘since we are planning to get our ISO certification in a year, every aspect of our service should be measurable. Frequent audits will be done and our service must continually improve, year after year,’ at this point I interrupt him, ‘Sir,’ I tell him, ‘with all due respect, in that case next year the target would be sixteen teeth and the year after that it would be thirty two, I guess. So if I am to remain in this great hotel for the next three years, you’re telling me that I must be prepared to surgically implant an extra set of dentures and open my mouth wide enough like a circus hippo for a whole minute until the guy behind the camera can count all my sixty-four teeth every time an unfortunate guest pops in.’ I said that in one breath. Mr. Hush Puppies glares at me and says in a slow measured tone, ‘I think you’re too smart to work here. I suggest you collect whatever dues the hotel owes you from the HR, and vacate your position immediately,’ and then I tell him that he can shove it up his stinky pink ass and I walk out of there. On my way back, I stop at the reception to say bye to my colleagues. I see them grinning like Lady Dracula about to pounce on the unfortunate guest who just walked in with a large backpack bending his frame. The man sees their teeth, scratches his head, says, ‘I am not sure I am at the right place,’ and takes the next cab outta there.”


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(To be continued...)

5 Comments:

Blogger hari said...

Hi Friends,

It would be nice to receive some comments occassionally. Do let me know what you think of my writing.

Hari Kumar

9:17 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Please dont rush it - it looks like you are not minding much attention to the choice of words in the latest installments as you did for the earlier ones. Just a thought. Nevertheless, the story is getting dramatic and soap operaish :)

8:49 AM  
Anonymous hari said...

Thanks for your comment, Anon. Good or bad, it's so nice to know that someone is actually taking the trouble to read your work--Thanks once again. Although my blogging stats tell me that my readerships has shot to over 800 (and growing almost every day), I have not been receiving any comments.
Anyway, point noted.
The book is actually completed. In other words, I am not writing this as I post. At 400 and odd pages (110,000 words) and 11 chapters it is, I guess, a medium sized novel.

Regards,

Hari

4:25 PM  
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