Party time, gentlemen

I have totally corrupted my posse.  Rakesh, a rare smoker - only when he drinks, has never had a whole cigar.  He polished this one off, so I gave him three more for when he's on his own.  Leena will hate me.  Sam only smokes them because he thinks he looks gangsta (do the kids use that word still?)

 Except for the strange position of my hand and Rakesh looking like a wax figure, this is a good shot of us.  Sam and Jen are kindred souls; always ready for a photo op.

I'm starting to feel darn snug in my diaper pants.  Look how the material gathers at the crotchal region.    I may wear these golfing tomorrow!

At the Ritz Carlton in Bangalore they are pouring on the customer service.  I received a handwritten note with a large tube of toothpaste and new toothbrush because they saw I had thrown away my little toothpaste tube.  (I had more, but what a nice gesture.  Tomorrow I'm going to throw away my iPod and hope they give me a new one.)

And this towel bunny greeted me when I arrived.  They eyes are orchid petals.  Creepy, yes, but you have to admire the effort.

Meanwhile, we celebrate Sam's birthday at the India office.  The tradition is that the birthday boy gets his cake smushed in his face.  Then they pick him up by the arms and legs and offer free spankings.  The women do not get this treatment, thankfully.

 

Sam, in a serious breech of etiquette, smushed the cake in the face of his bosses.

The stunned India employees didn't know what to make of this interloper who violated their tradition.

Samit, the very proper leader of India HR, doesn't know how to react.

Sam....