WARNING: Violent stuff. Read at your own risk.
I made sure to arrive at Inox early. While I had booked the show for 'Jab Tak Hai Jaan' show online, I was notified that due to the server being down, the reservations had to be done by personally coming at the Box Office. My Hummer pulled up at eight o'clock on the dial of my Tag Heuer. I stepped out dressed in a black dress by Valentino, shoes by Prada, Versace glares and wearing Clive Christian perfume. I approached the Box Office, eyeing a group of layabout fatties. Moving past them, I stood in front of the queue.
"Hey, do you work here?" one of the fatties asked.
Enraged that anyone would think I would stoop so low as to work in sales and that anyone would think someone with my body, tan and clothing would even conceive the notion of so much as taking a measly internship at such an establishment, I managed to keep my cool and tell him no.
"Then the line starts over there," he said, pointing at the end of the queue. I conveniently ignored him.
For the next half an hour, I stood in front of the Inox box office watching people through my Versace glares. There were two hot dudes, a tall muscular guy and a short haired lean guy with a long neck, that turned me on. Suddenly, three of the fatties from the group behind me came up to me and started to hassle my stake as the legitimate first person in the queue. One of the fatties, the shortest, wore a cheap basketball shorts that he might have taken out of a dumpster and a v neck tee that revealed too much of man breasts. His sight alone angered me.
"You are not going in first. We are here since seven thirty", the fatso argued.
I tried to remain calm, even though they had touched my last nerve and somehow kept my hand away from the pocket knife in my Gucci purse.