How to serve a morning cup of coffee to your lover in a Long Distance Relationship

[This post was meant to be posted on the second day of the deluge. I couldn't do it from my mobile. Hence I'm posting it now.]

The lack of broadband internet (on the computer that is) does have its own queer advantages – queer not in the gay sense, but in the ‘weird’ sense – for queers like me and Vinokur. The conversations on a rather Jurassic telephone line can be a lot more intimate and focused. Besides, people can actually relocate themselves at will – from a couch to the bed, from a desk to a window, from the living room to the kitchen etc.

In a long distance relationship this is can be a blessing in disguise. For example, Vinokur could take a walk down the Hudson river and tell me how beautiful big Apple looked in autumn with a spray of colors of the leaves OR I could just walk up the dirty stairwell in my apartment building explaining how it was lined exotically with all kinds of patterns of paan spit and how bad the drainage nullah behind my apartment building smelled.

Yes, you need such stuff in a long-distance relationship or else it would be difficult to make it work. If you are living with your partner (like a few lucky souls out here - Chandni/Boy, Fly/Bebe, awwiNYC/hubby etc), you could wake up first thing the morning and make your partner a fine cup of coffee and take it to the bedside and wake him/her up by gently kissing on the lips. In my life this is how it works.

[Vodafone long distance calling card telephone call at 19.43 IST/10.13 EST]

‘Ph… hello!’

‘Hey there dude, hello! I’m sorry, did I wake you up?’

‘Ph… naw… I was just do-ozing. So I guess the internet connection is not yet up.’

‘No, there seems to a bigger problem than expected. We might not have it until Monday.’

‘Awww… I’m gonna miss you, you know that?’

‘That’s okay. We can stay in touch via the old fashioned phone. Did you have your morning coffee yet?’

‘Oh, that explains why I’m so grooogggy still.’

‘Why don’t you make one right now? You can take me to the kitchen hold me in your hand and make coffee. That should be fun.’

‘Well, I’ll do it after we hang up.’

‘Hey, this is a good opportunity for us to bond. Come on, do it for me please.’

‘Okay, okay – if you insist! But you know that I’m not capable of such complex tasks. Remember, I’m a Jew with ADD. So, don’t complain if I put you inside the microwave oven and burn you.’

(…)

‘You can use the speaker phone then. You can put me up on the counter and I’d keep on gushing out my feelings while you make your coffee.’

[The Jew trudges on to the kitchen.]

‘No mishaps until now.’

‘Cool!’

‘I’m going to put you down on the counter okay?’

‘Okay.’

[Door opening sound; the clatter of cups and spoons.]

‘Hey, what are you wearing now?’

(…)

‘Hey there, are you able to hear me?’

(…)

(…)

‘Hullo?’

‘Were you talking to me?’

‘Yes, of course? Didn’t you hear me scream?’

‘No honey, I didn’t.’

‘But you said the speaker-phone is turned on.’

‘Yes, it was. But I didn’t hear it.’

‘Come on, how can that be?’

‘Oops, the speaker-phone wasn’t on.’

‘There, I caught you red-handed lying.’

‘Not the first time, honey!’

[Beeps from the microwave oven.]

‘How do you make a coffee?’

‘Well, I take a cup of milk and heat it up in the microwave. Then, I add a teaspoon and a little more of Nescafe and a couple of teaspoons of sugar. I stir it vigously. Voila!’

[Vigorous stirring. Very irritating over a telephone line.]

‘There, now I feel better. I’m glad you insisted on me making the coffee. Thank you honey!’

‘Well, you Jews are insistence-demanding.’

‘Yes we are. That why I insist on your love.’

(…)

‘I love you, my brown skinned Indian!’

‘I love you too!’

(PS: I had read the the front page article on yesterday’s TOI about the deteriorating call quality in GSM networks. Well, this proves that it’s not true.)