Almost!

Hello all!
I am most definitely miffed. For I have been unceremoniously brushed aside today. Jilted. Sidelined. Ignored.
And that too, in this era, where feminism is one of the watchwords of the nation, and achievements by women are at their High Tide.

Do you know i almost rode on a truck today?
Yes, almost.

See, it began like this. A courier guy came in a truck to deliver some bulky stuff at our place, but couldn't, because they were laying the road. (As those of you have visited me anytime in the past 15 months or so know, they have been at this for a very very long time indeed. Me thinks they are trying to make it a National Highway or something. Except that our road is around 2 feet wide and is also a cul-de-sac.)
And so, the truck driver asked if we knew anyone who lived on a road that was not brimming with life-threateningly jagged rocks and boulders. Since we have some very gracious neighbours, (readers please note that gracious is an understatement because these people had to store around 144kgs of stuff until our road became a National Highway) I, our odd-job man and the truck driver were soon negotiating our way toward the truck.
At this point I must tell you that until I was about ten years old, my biggest dream was to be a truck-driver(ess?). I used to watch in wide-eyed admiration that Shubha Mudal song video involving a woman trucker. Before that I wanted to be an ice-cream vendor. But we digress.
I was almost rubbing my hands with glee as we neared the truck, and inside my head were images of me gently bobbing along in it, a la the curly-haired rustic in Yun Hi Chala Chal Rahi. But when we reached the truck, I noticed a very ungentlemanly chink in the driver's armour (please get your minds out of the gutter, this is a metaphor.) With a breezy "Walk along, Miss, and stand at the turning please", the man got into his truck and revved the engine.
Seeing that what was under his canopy was really bulky (again, a metaphor), I squared my shoulders and proceeded to leg it. I should mention at this point that our handy man had come on a bicycle, and let alone ask me whether i wanted a lift, he took off towards the destination without so much as a glance in my direction. Hmph! Men indeed!
But then, this bicycle was a very seedy and questionable looking one, and was probably bought second-hand after it was battered during the shooting of Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikander, so i let it go. Now we had me, racing to keep up with a truck and a bicycle, so i broke into a jog (and a sweat) a la Aamir Khan in Dil. (Yes, i know. My life makes you sad) I will have you know that I ran like an Olympic torch bearer, and those men stopped every 10 seconds or so to let me keep up.
Men.
Sigh.
Ok, I've gotta go now. Hey! Is that a road-roller? Can i ride along? Wait for me!

PS: Feedback is welcome. Do comment.