Mod(i)us Ope-randi

I present what is known as a #TLDR on social media which my alcohol habit wishes it would have been responsible for:

Absolutely free advice for Donald J. Trump and the person who was cleared in 2012 (that I'm not allowed to even mention on the internet for the fear of being jailed for speaking my mind in the country where I was born, which, irony be damned, constitutionally permits me to speak my mind) of some serious charges of orchestrating or at least overseeing a supposed genocide against 2000-odd Indian Muslims in 2002:

Say NO to drugs (I'm talking to you, Don) and unethical political leverage of all kinds, GST included. People are 6/6 on your shit talk.

A college graduate (who got in on merit as opposed to Jared Kushner or Ivanka Trump or a certain bald gentleman who recently went to Kerala with another bald gentleman who is also accused  by the unjust liberal media of being a murderer) or a literate person who is in touch with current affairs, will help you understand the context.

Get in touch with one right now. (Or Google 6/6 vision. It will help. Or maybe not. You both wear glasses. Except you, Don. You're the best.)

Aye Ganpat.

Hello America.

I am sick. I am tired. Tired of your tabs. Tired of your stupid bar counters. Tired of that stupid way in which you serve your overpriced drinks. Tired of the stupid way you do your stupid things.

I want to drink at a real bar.

I want a bar where a man with oil stains on his cheap grey outfit walks up to my table with a steel glass of water the moment I sit at it.

I want a bar with a woman's name which is embroidered on those grey outfits with red thread.

I want a bar where they sell only quarters, halves and khambas. (Because pegs are for pussies.)

I want a bar with cheap furniture and shady lighting.

I want a bar that only plays 9XM or Star Cricket to borderline depressed middle aged men getting a quick three drinks before heading home after work.

I want a bar that serves vajri fry.

I want a bar where I can smoke indoors.

I want a bar where they sell booze after closing time in the back room.

I want a bar where they don't ID. Although that does not matter to me. But it's insulting and I can't help it if I look like a child with a beard.

I want a bar where they serve complimentary chakna which has flavour. Pretzels are acceptable chakna only if you dip them in red chili powder.

You really need to learn how to do this bar thing.

Or maybe I'm just homesick.

Come to think of it, those British snobs living in America have their own bars and shit where they celebrate their own drinking culture. Fucking Canadians do, too. Aren't we Indians drinkers? Or do us Indians who move abroad feel ashamed in admitting that we drink ugly? Why is there not one entrepreneur in America who has thought of starting a chain of bars that celebrates lower middle class Indian drinking culture with attention to the minutest details like unwashed or poorly washed tableware and horrible restrooms?

If you are the owner of a joint that fits the above description, please do be sure to get in touch me. I will take back everything I said. I want to move to your city and drink at your bar. Every day.