I decided to walk to work today, not a mean task considering the fact that my office is barely a kilometer away from my home. This individual in an octavia, who I thought was going to ask for direction, intercepted me. He didn’t want directions but instead asked me my height. I was somewhere between shock and amusement….i smelled a rat and wondered aloud “why?” but on he insisted and I eventually gave him my height ( which I instantly realized was a stupid thing to do). The unwilling conversation dragged on, he asked for my background and residence and each question met with a “why?”. I was in no mood for jokes and Delhi is as it is full of jerks. As I was about to walk off it tuned out the man was a model coordinator who wanted me to model for him…
And I imagined myself as a model for a fraction of second………………………..
No no no , I don’t fit in as a model, I work out, have brawn but also a slight tummy, I am not photogenic and defiantly not comfortable prancing around for the benefit of others.
I dress well, but only for myself….i love attention but I have my own means of getting it.
And certainly being the next zoolander does not feature on my to do list.
I tuned him down, “sorry, I don’t think I want to model” as I walked on It occurred to me “maybe I should have taken his number”. …What if? But then I think…NAH! I would rather be a Rock star. And walk on humming “god gave me everything ….by Mick jagger.