A real boo boo...

What a day! Am absolutely shattered...for several reasons.
1. I stupidly decided to wear new wedge sandals that hadn't been broken in yet (crazy fool)
2. We saw 8 apartments spread over the Bandra and Juhu suburbs
3. Had an extremely embarrassing moment involving a shoestring dress strap...(God nooooo)
4. We ended up driving home in rush hour traffic from Juhu to Bandra in a taxi that's air conditioning decided to stop working (un-fricken-believably super bad luck!)

Amitabh Bachchan a.k.a "Big B"

The entire day turned up not one bloody interesting apartment...feel so depressed for all the above reasons but mainly because one of my lovely vintage Versace summer dress' now needs mending. And yes, before you ask I have a double G&T in hand as we speak...of course. So after we gave the last apartment the "big thumbs down" due to very loud traffic noises, our agent had to quickly head off to his next appointment. At this point it was already 4:30pm (danger zone traffic wise) and we were madly trying to flag down a taxi right outside Big B's original Juhu villa (Amitabh Bachchan-the godfather of Bollywood) whilst trying to avoid too many stares. We managed to grab a taxi and headed back towards Bandra. Before we knew it we had hit a traffic jam. Fan-fricken-tastic I thought! Suddenly our air conditioning shut down without any warning. Everyone began to roll down the windows. Half an hour later when we were no more than 1km further down the same road- we were all red faced, hot and sweaty and rather annoyed. "Lil G" had fallen asleep on my lap and "HRH" resembled a drenched rat...(though in his own sweat-so pretty gross!) I was trying to speak in my pidgeon hindi to beg the driver to get off the main road..."Linking Road- nai atchaa"-but it wasn't working. It was hell. It quite honestly felt like we had slipped into the burning pits of hell! Burning pits of hell- rolled in chilli might I add! Eye watering- you get my drift...I looked out the window to see 4 young men sitting in the back of a truck leering at me and taking photos of me on their cell phones. I shielded my face with my hand (minding not to wipe off the dripping make up that was rolling towards my neck) and tried to look away. Thankfully the taxi moved forward...but then so did the truck full of guys. Great. I squirmed in my seat and went to turn my body away fully. My dress was stuck to my back and as I turned my left hand side dress strap snapped. As I noticed...I looked up in horror to see the guys quickly snapping photos on their cellphones and laughing. My whole breast had popped out and was exposed. OMFG. By the time I covered up it was too late. The photos had probably made it to Peru in that amount of time! I was furious...and embarassed. The guys on the truck thought it was brilliant and gods work- I suspect. I thought it was shoddy workmanship on Versace's part and swore bloody blue murder! But being stuck in a traffic jam I then had to endure ten further minutes of bumper to bumper tag with the truck. Talk about giving Janet Jackson a run for her money on the "wardrobe malfunction" stakes...At least she had something covering her nipple! Aargh! Good one Queenie.

Queenie / Janet Jackson?

So there you have it. A whole day wasted without one positive apartment to show for it, a vintage Versace dress in need of repair (and reinforcing might I add) and one Queenie whose pride was severely bruised today.
Mumbai-1
Queenie-0
Peruvian construction workers +1
Need I say top up to the bartender? Excuse the pun.