His eyes were red. They seemed like a windshield with no wipers. That windshield was holding the sum of the water found in Niagra falls. At any moment the water would finally overload the threshold, run rampant and fill the entire room. Or so it seemed.
His voice was filled with the passive-aggressive anger that is trademark of all serial killers, and of those people who wake up and while looking for something to eat, realize that they're out of their favourite Count Chocula cereal because their roommate ate it all! "Guys, I'm going to Medical School. You can't come here, use my utilities and just leave without paying."
"I don't mind paying, it's just that I'm not going to pay for sleeping in the common room because you wouldn't move you're stuff out until 3 weeks late. And Alexander is leaving in a few days too. I ain't paying for this entire thing, especially not at the original price."
What followed next was something between a snake hissing, and a bower bird attempting to win over a mate. Yaseen Sheesha's voice trembled slightly, and his face took on a pinkish hue.
"I'm going to call management, and have you guys kicked out. I'm sorry, but you can't come in here, use my kitchen, use my utilities and just not pay for anything. Think about the inconvenience you put on Franco Farsi and Mr. 1.6 Km."
Silence followed the clearly broken Sheesha's comments. AJ attempted to bring about some sort of mutual reconciliation. Franco Farsi looked on from the corner of the hallway and Mr. 1.6 Km, well, he was miles away from the source of the disturbance.
Finally, yours truly, fed up with one man circus that was Yaseen Sheesha, made a deal with Mr. Alexander (apparently he now goes by Abdul Muqtadir Khan, or at least he does in some circles). We conversed in a low voice, inaudible to the Sheesha. It started in Urdu and reached it's end in a matter of seconds. We agreed to offer Mr. Yaseen Sheesha a lowered price, a price which in all honesty, was generous on our part.
I was mad, but I also pitied Mr. Sheesha. That man is a walking heart attack, and that's pretty unfortunate. He's also very selfish, which is the downfall of a great many men, and needless to say, Mr. Sheesha is a few notches (at least) below the word "great."
I would like to the say the story ends, but unfortunately, it doesn't. Two more incidences occurred after the original confrontation. Alexander left a few days later and I was left as the sole tenant of Mr. Sheesha's room. Before finally leaving the place, I cleaned it up (and I should say, I probably shouldn't have). As I'm getting ready to leave, I take out the remaining money I need to pay to Mr. Sheesha. I make sure I have the keys, and his id swipe card. Everything is there and I'm all packed. But, there's one problem -- Mr. Sheesha is nowhere to be seen. I text the man (I got his number after the confrontation), ask him where he is and tell him I'm about to leave. He replies, "lol I'm in dc" and then sends several more three word texts stating he's "sorry," "what should we do now" and "I totally forgot." Finally, I tell him I'm leaving all the stuff with AJ, even though he suggests I leave it with Franco Farsi, because "you can trust him." (Ouch, Mr. AJ.) I leave hoping that I never see this man, again. To this day, I can proudly say I haven't had the misfortune of seeing him again (mashallah se), but the story still goes on.
Alexander returned after his France trip. He, Franco Farsi, AJ and one more person were working on a new startup (if I haven't mentioned that before). He spent the remainder of the time in common room. Of course, this happened about two weeks after I had left. One day, again about two weeks later, Mr. Sheesha finally came to pick up the money he was so desperate for. He sees Alexander, gets his keys, id and money from AJ, and then proceeds to his room (which has been locked now for about 2 weeks). Before he unlocks it and walks in, he remarks, "guys, is there anything I need to know about before I walk in?"
Sharam karo Mr. Sheesha. Sharam karo.
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