Editing suite 2:30 am
The tension could be felt in the oxygen we were breathing, every breath expelled was thickening the atmosphere. I sat at Karan’s computer looking for a way out of this rabbit hole. Indiatraveltours.net seemed to be the gateway to freedom. Air Canada. Check, October 24th, check, midnight flight outta dodge, check! I did it, While the air thickened I managed to book two airline tickets out of New Delhi into Toronto, Canada. For tomorrow. Roger, whom I will now call Mr. Pathetic, was sitting in front of me at a different desk and kept fidgeting around and looking at me every now and then. Smiling with that fake crooked tooth ridden fly trap of his. I smiled back in agony knowing that things were falling apart and nobody wanted to say anything. It’s like knowing you’re leaving someone that is lying to you yet still sitting in the same room pretending everything is fine. Humans do the strangest things. Why do we lie? Why do we cheat? Why do we try to get away with things? This was an awful cat and mouse game. We refused to get bamboozled by Mr. Pathetic and his evil witch Evermean. Our egos were so large we couldn’t possibly get cheated. We knew what they were up to and we were not gonna take it. We were not stupid you know! I booked the tickets, walked out of the room to breathe a little and dove back into the molases atmosphere in the editing suite. Karan had written in his notebook: I help you. And showed it to me as I walked by his chair near the door. I smiled back at him. I had to sit in that stinky office waiting for Pathetic and his assistant to give up on trying to figure out Mr. T’s MAC. I guess they wanted to steal the project but couldn’t figure out how to do it. Their faces were comical, they were sweating and kept looking at each other pretending to edit when I could clearly see they had no idea what they were doing. I sat there googling all kinds of options. Tic, toc, tic, toc, tic, toc…. The clock kept ticking it was now 3 am. I was so pumped up on adrenaline I wasn’t even tired or felt sick anymore. I had a plan. We were leaving before the sun came out. They were coming back around 11 in the morning so by that time we would already be hiding at the Canadian embassy waiting for our flight time to come around. There would be no getting rid of us. That sounded terrifying. In India getting rid of someone is cheap. $100 dollars can get it done. They owed us 30,000 pounds. It sounded worth it. I guess we’ll never know what they meant by that statement. But I wasn’t about to stick around and ask Evermean: “What did you mean get rid of us?” No bitch, I was outta there. My fingers started tapping the desk nervously. I was starting to get desperate for them to leave. I needed to scream, walk around in circles and say: This can’t be happening, this isn’t happening, compulsively. I needed to binge on nutella and bread while I laughed. I needed to look in the mirror and say FUCK THIS! Out loud. And those nincompoops were still there and all I could do was sit and wait. Wait Cantina, wait…..