In what has been a trying week for many people, I hope this post brings a smile to someone's face...
As I sat there in the wreckage of Dad’s nice, new car…it began to snow.
This was strange for February in Sydney but after a litre or so of Cointreau, the old meteorological reasoning faculties were a little skewed, so I simply chose to believe what I was seeing. What I was actually seeing was the apparently fine powder storm created when an airbag inflates automatically.
Staring at the winter wonderland going on around me, it seemed as though I was a figure in one of those kids’ toys you shake; I half-expected to see a reindeer sitting next to me in the passenger seat.
Then I noticed the small pillow against my chest, unaware that it was in fact the driver’s airbag, since I’d never actually seen one before. Either way, it looked inviting enough to lay my head down on and take a well-deserved nap, which I was just about to do when the car-door opened unceremoniously and a gun was leveled at my head. Of all the weird things going on…the snow, the pillow, the absence of any reindeer…it was the gun that seemed totally imaginary…so I ignored it.
‘YOU INSIDE…GET OUT OF THE FUCKING VEHICLE NOW !!!’
‘Huh ?? What ??’ I managed to stammer, hoping like hell I was also imagining the enraged police officer now yelling into my ear.
‘I SAID GET OUT OF THE FUCKING VEHICLE…PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE ROOF OF THE VEHICLE AND SPREAD YOUR LEGS !!!’
When the full second I’d been given to comply had elapsed without my managing to do any of these tasks, a large hand reached into the cabin, grabbed me by the collar and hauled me out onto the street. Rough treatment for sure…but as I later found out, the police officers were exremely pissed off, assuming quite fairly, although erroneously as it turned out, that I had deliberately tried to run them over.
After patting me down for weapons, ‘Constable Cranky Pants’ spun me around, stared deep into my eyes, which must have resembled a pair of smashed ‘Jaffas’ and said, ‘Have you been drinking tonight ??’
To which I replied, ‘Mate, I’ve had about 25 Cointreaus on ice…maybe more…and some had vodka in them too.’
To which he replied, ‘Well I’m going to have to ask you to blow into the bag.’
To which I replied…in a line that has passed into Eastern Suburbs folklore…’Why…don’t you believe me ??’
(Now, truth be known, I don’t claim to have thought of this line myself. I’d heard the gag somewhere before and dreamed of the day I’d be in a good position to use it. That day had come…I took my opportunity for glory and ran with it.)
At this point I was convinced the cop was going to punch my face in…
To be continued…