Where's the party yaarrrr!

So you get a new job and you call up your friend. “Hey, I got a job.” He is thinking: Awesome. For me! Now I can go to that restaurant I always fancied and drink the fancy booze on which I couldn’t afford to waste my hard earned money. But what he finally says is,” Congrats dude! That’s great news. So where’s the treat?”

You call up a couple of your close friends and decide to meet over the weekend for a drink to celebrate your success. You are happily settled at the place. But the word slowly spreads that you are throwing a party. All the losers who had no plans of their own for the weekend end up at your table. Now there are fifteen guys at your table and some of them you haven’t even seen for the last few months. They are like, “Congrats dude. Awesome news on the new job. Good Show. Can you pass on the drinks menu please?”

You are happy about your new job and want to have a drink to that. Now this is the funny thing about drinks. You are happy and want to have one. But after you had one, you are happier and want to have some more. And thus goes the downward spiral. Once you had a few drinks, you are the most generous person on the earth. You would put Karna to shame. Some chicken wrapped in the bacon for your dear non-veg friends and some more French fries for your poor veggie friends. Every one is having a ball. No one bothers about you as long as you are sober enough to sign the cheque.

And then comes the bummer. You see a number with lots of zeros in it and you are wondering, “Am I drunk or what? Did we drink that much?” I wasn’t this happy when I got my job. My happiness is not worth the poop bag used to collect a dog’s shit. Ok, maybe a little more than that. But not definitely this much! I bet my parents weren’t so happy when I was born.

You sign the bill just to get rid of it from your sight. But there’s hope. There is always hope. Any self respecting MBA from one of the esteemed institutions in western India and its distant cousin in the northern India and other assorted family members will change his job in the first year of his professional life. You take a look at the other fourteen guys on the table and give a wry and an all-understanding smile. Those poor bastards have no idea what’s coming their way. You just have to be a little patient. Those soon-to-be-poor bastards.