So here I am, at the Shankita household, or as I like to call it, the Desi Outsiders HQ.
Ankita woke me up at 8am this morning, after going to bed at 5am just to make sure this blog post would get published. She took me to her closet, sat me down with my laptop and left me a glass of water and said, "get this published or we will not feed you today, fatty!"
As I write this, Shane and Ankita are at a fancy breakfast bar having an elaborate meal whilst I'm sitting here with this glass of water. If anyone is reading, please check up on in the next few hours. I might die of dehydration. Okay, I'm exaggerating, but this is exactly how Ankita portrays me in this blog. So to maintain her standards, I'm going to do exactly the same!
From the moment I landed in Edinburgh, Ankita and Shane have been using me as an experimenting tool to see whether they are capable of having kids or not. If they think giving their child dish washing soap to clean their body is acceptable, and if they think that leaving their child for a whole 12 hours at home alone with no food is okay, then they might want to start off with taking care of a plant and then move up the ladder. Actually, a plant might be too much. Ankita watered her plant on Saturday for the first time in five days and she hasn't even touched it ever since.
So even though I have been here for a week, I still haven't seen a single attraction and that's totally okay with me. We decided that this would be a work holiday and nothing really makes us happier than being productive together on something we both love so much. Every single day has been a work day and every single day we've laughed so much that my sides scream with pain. Obviously it's me who makes them both laugh since I'm a comedic genius and they both just feed off me and pretend it was their joke all along. It's a Shankita thing.
Speaking of Shankita things, I realized just last night at the Chinese restaurant, that Zac must really be a true friend of theirs and love them for who they really are despite all their weirdness. Let me explain, please. Please.
So we're at the dinner table and Shane, for some weird reason, decides that he wants to talk in a gay accent all day. It was funny for an hour, maybe even in the second hour, but after that, I asked Ankita if she was sure she married the right man. To my surprise, Ankita thought it would be hilarious to pick up a southern Texas accent and speak like an old lady who lives with fifty cats. She also started referring to herself as 'Barb' in the third person. In the middle of a conversation, she would say "Barb thinks that Shane is acting a bit gay today". I haven't even got to the weird part yet.
So at the dinner table, I had Shane with a gay accent, Ankita with a Texas accent and I just pretended that I initially started off at the dinner table alone and three homeless people decided to join me. Zac on the other hand just asked one question at the beginning of our meal, and that was "what's up with you guys today?" and Shane replied in his gay accent, "I just had some cawwfeee, so I'm a little excited!" and Ankita said, "this is my Texan accent!" And those answers satisfied Zac's curiosity. I'm still here almost twelve hours on, wondering if they need medical help.
I don't want to bore you with details of what we've been up to and I don't want to use this blog to expose more of Ankita and Shane, because she might just start losing readers after this is published. Ankita is like the sister I never had. The sister who always bullies the younger sister for touching her clothes, for not wearing the right make-up and for touching her face wash.
Jokes aside, my week in Scotland has left with me timeless memories which will recharge my Duracell batteries as I live my life as an Eskimo in the biting cold in Prague. I'm not sure how Ankita manages to express herself so perfectly and eloquently on this blog, but I don't think this blog post is enough to convey my love to Shane and Ankita.