Given my rather sedate existence, I’m always troubled by the number of peculiar incidents that befall me. In particular, the weirdest things seem to happen when I’m in my car.
I’ve mentioned before that I’ve been in many car accidents, one while I was stationary at the lights, and not one but two while I was parked. It might surprise you, therefore, to find out that these accidents barely rate on the Stuffed Olive Weird-O-Meter of Car Incidents.
This evening I was unlucky enough to experience the equivalent of a Number 7 on the Weird-O-Meter. I was driving along the deserted streets of Hobart, when a young man dressed in what appeared to be his Sunday best leaped in front of my car and proceeded to hammer on the window and tried to pull open my door. I must admit, it quite frightened me, so I slammed down my accelerator and left him shouting in my rear view mirror.
I do hope he wasn’t fleeing some terrible foe, though this seems unlikely since he could as easily have gone for help in the supermarket across the road. I suspect he merely wanted a lift into town, in which case, I suppose I hope he found one.