Life's like that

Like most modern women, I had dreamed of meeting my prince charming at a swinging party, a relaxing resort or on an adventure vacation in an exotic island. Not in Tihar Jail, the largest maximum security prison in South Asia.

But before you go counting your chickens before they hatch and putting the carriage before the horse and all those fancy sayings which I'd love to spout but will not (for the simple reason that I haven't the foggiest idea of what they are), let me explain to you the extenuating circumstances.

Now then, where was I? Tihar Jail. Right. A bunch of us from office had gone there on a volunteering basis to run a medical camp for the workers of TJ. The NGO we had partnered with gave each of us little tasks to do. So while everyone else was doing icky stuff like noting down height, weight, maintaining orderly queues, yelling out things they were running out of and running around replacing them, I had this cushy, intellectual (and the only seated) job of interviewing the workers to do a pre-checkup profiling.

I was enjoying myself, pretending to be a hot-shot doctor, tut-tutting righteously when someone told me they drank too much or smoked too often, advising them to eat healthy balanced meals and generally making a thorough nuisance of myself while I checked items off my questionnaires and watched my colleagues sweat it out.

The NGO lady sitting next to me kept giving me all sorts of advice which I kept royally ignoring. Soon, it was break time and the workers were cleared off for a bit while we volunteers relaxed over tea and biscuits. The moment I was about to happily sink my teeth into one huge biscuit, this stunning dude walked over and sat down in the chair in front of me.

Like most modern women, I don't like to be caught in an undignified position with my mouth wide open trying to stuff a healthy bite of some high-calorie foodstuff in it with chocolate coated fingers. Not when I have that sort of gorgeous hunk sitting bang opposite, looking at me with a twinkle in his eye.

Recovering quickly, I grinned, wiped my fingers clean, cheekily offered him a bite of the luscious biscuit and grabbed one of the questionnaires I had been using for the worker health profiling.

"Now then.......Name?" I began, making a big show of doing my volunteering duties.
"Anthony", he replied without missing a beat.
"Age?" I looked up slyly.
"26" he replied, catching on fast.
"Do you drink? Smoke?"
"No"
"Vegetarian?"
"No"
"Married?" I improvised saucily
"No", he replied with a grin, knowing fully well that there was no such question on my list.
"Lovely, then last question - salary?" I grinned up at him, thoroughly enjoying this charade.
"Not enough. But does seven figures work for you?"
"I don't know about her, but honey, you can marry me any time you want!" gushed the NGO-lady who was sitting (quite forgotten) beside me.

He did.