A Drunken Dance

By Kaavya Manjunath

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I jumped out of bed when the doorbell rang. I am a student of law and living alone in a shady area, not the lovely beach umbrella kind of shady. The type of shady where anyone with intact mental facilities would never go voluntarily. But me being broke and slightly crazy, did not care. But anyway, back to the story. Due to the reasons mentioned above, whenever the bell would ring or I heard some unusual sound, I would get a little paranoid. I went up to the door and looked through the peephole. But there was no one there! Irritating it was, as I was studying for an exam. Well, it must have been a prank. A lot of delinquents come here to take out their anger of a miserable life on public property. So I went back to the hell of a place called a textbook.

But I have shaken out of my so-called studying again when the doorbell rang. Argh! So again, I went and checked. I know what you must be expecting, there was no one there. Well, you are right, but here’s the strange thing. I heard something. So I opened the door and lay on the floor was a man, a very drunk man. Well, not surprising, considering where I lived. But he was holding a mirror. A mirror! One would expect a gun or a knife but of all things a mirror. How anticlimactic! He must be fond of looking at himself. But I can’t see why, as it would be very depressing and insulting to look at yourself and see a zombie for a person. But since I want to go to heaven when I die, and these types of people might be my clients in the future whom I’ll utterly leach of (insert diabolical laughter), I decided to help him up by….. Kicking him in his side. Worked like a charm. He jumped up and I noticed a crucifix at his neck. Strange, a man of god drinking? And the words that came out of his mouth were no better. My mother would have fainted had she heard them.

“Sir, you are extremely drunk, please go home. I do not want to clean up after you puke.” I said. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes and started walking towards me. I backed away. He walked faster. Soon we started running. It’s a mystery how a drunk man can run so fast. “Wait, I just need something.” he slurred. What, money, my liver, my life, just what, I thought. We ran out to the street and a beat cop saw us. “Help”, I wheezed but didn’t stop. The beat cop, poor guy, started chasing this man. We ran and ran and another cop joined us in our pantomime. Finally, exhausted, I stopped. The drunkard crashed into me. The cops crashed into the drunkard. We landed in a pile on the ground. Domino effect, classic. Groaning we stood up. Except for the drunkard. “Well, sir, you are in a lot of trouble. We don’t get paid to run after Usain Bolt.” the policeman addressed the drunkard, disgruntled. “For the love of God, I just wanted to go to the washroom!” groaned the man. The three of us looked at the man incredulously. “Are you serious?  This drunken dance because you wanted to use the washroom! Tell that to the judge tomorrow in court. You can use the John in a nice cozy cell now onwards” snarled the beat cop. “Well, thank you, fellas, I guess I’m not needed here anymore,” I said. “Not so soon sir, we need you to file a report and give a statement concerning tonight’s events.” Said the beat cop, grinning at my misery.

My feet were hurting, I was tired and exasperated. This was going to be a long night, I thought as I followed the happy trio to the police.

And I guess adventure wanted to be my best friend that night. About halfway through our little parade, the man decided he didn’t want to go to jail. “I am the son of god! Leave me alone. I will not stay with sinners.” He thundered, trying to sound like a lion. Read trying to. He cursed for the rest of the journey. It was very irritating.  Especially at one in the morning. Finally, we arrived. Hallelujah!

“Sir, after you complete giving your statement, you are free to go,” said the cop. “Okay, let’s hurry. I have an exam tomorrow.” I replied moodily. “What do you study, sir,” the man asked. “Law”, I replied. And I noticed that all three of them were chuckling. Then unable to control himself, the drunk started roaring. “What’s so funny? I asked. “Sorry sir, but I cannot picture you as a lawyer. “And why is that? I asked, angrily. “Well, aren’t lawyers mature and elegant?” slurred the man. “Do I not look mature and elegant?” “It’s not that-“, the officer started but was interrupted by the alcoholic. “No lad, you look like a hooligan.” The drunk replied, still cackling.

What came over me, I can’t explain. But after an exhausting night, getting insulted by the root of my damnation, I was mad. Very mad. So what happened next, I will not explain in detail. But I tell that the next morning, three men were in the hospital with many injuries, and I was the one in court the next morning. After this experience, I will be very lucky if I graduate from law school and get hired. But I think it will be a funny story. A lawyer with a criminal record, don’t you think?

By Kaavya Manjunath

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