10 October 2005

is that blood on my hands?

Today - technically speaking - i knocked someone over. A hit and run, like - I hit him and he ran. Actually what happened is that a mad person launched himself at my moving car, smacked into it and then ran away very very fast indeed. Despite being a crap driver, i was driving on the road and not the pavement so am fairly sure it wasn't my fault.

It happened as I was on my way back from a Very Important Meeting this morning and i realised i needed to make a phone call. I would love to say i was being a responsible citizen and i pulled over so as not to talk on the phone while driving, but actually its just as i said earlier - i am a shit driver and if i attempt both tasks concurrently i am successful in neither. So i pulled over and hungrily started arranging that nice cup of coffee and a bite of lunch with a mate.

Imagine my surprise when a wild eyed nutter (judging from his clothing he lives in a drain) marched up and kicked my car while yelling at me about my ancestory. i ignored him and carried on trying to establish (without looking at the map) where the corner of Crown and Liverpool was, at which point he started headbutting the car. I quickly explained to my mate that i was being attacked and had to drive off. Note to mate: next time we are on the phone and i tell you that i am being murdered please don't ring me back. you would be mortified if i died because i was too polite to let your call go through to voicemail.

Anyhoooo - the point being that i sped off, hurled the cage around the corner and went smack into a dead end road. i dramatically turned the car around (only took 5 goes, too) and raced back around the corner, only to be faced with the mad guy standing the in the middle of the road. He sprinted towards the car and attempt to do a parachute landing on the bonnet for absolultely no good reason as far as i could see. it was very bizarre and utterly surreal - bearing in mind less than 2 minutes had elapsed since i first dialled the phone number. i had swerve quickly and in the process bumped his arse really quite hard. He went spinning around but stayed on his feet while i hovered about wondering what to do. i put my foot down and got the heck outta there.

I thought about it for a while and realised that technically it was a hit and run. The down sides to reporting the incident is that firstly it would spoil a great story, secondly he was mad and thirdly it would be very hard to describe a nutter walking around Kings Cross with a pillow cover over his head and slits cut out for eyes without sounding like a nutter yourself. especially now that i don't have a job - being unemployed detracts from my credibility heaps.

eventually i decided to leave it, but i wonder if i will sleep tonight knowing that i bruised a freak?

6 comments:

Darls said...

Bahaha a hit and run Jane style, love it. As I was reading I had flash backs about the crazy taxi driver who picked me up from work at Pyrmont and drove me home to Newtown and abused me the whole way because I asked if he took eftpos! when asking him to pull over at an atm in king street so I could get cash out, a gush of wind blew past me and I realised it was my long haired cab driver running up the street, taxi doors open in the express lane, hazzard lights flashing. As I stood and pondered..what the...(blonde style) I realised the guy was chasing an imaginary me up the street who'd done a runner without paying. As I stood there with my $20 note in my hand I decided to get outta there before he came back and beat the crap outta me! so me, my high heels and suit ran all the way home (like the three little piggy's) through some dark back streets behind the train station that I was unfamilar with having just moved from the northern beaches to "the jungle" with my crazy friend - who as I ran in the door clutching my chest and gasping for breath looked somewhat amused. My breathy tale of near death and a display of what was once a lovely pair of high heels was rewarded with a glass of red wine. Thanks Jane! xx

jungle jane said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAA i remember that soooo well - you were all North Shore Princess horrified and I thought you were my hero for doing a runner on the cab.

Maybe in my next blog i can chat about the time the bouncer at the pub wanted to look in our birthday shopping carrier bags....:-)))

Darls said...

ah yes, one of the many funny stories... my life is an open book, feel free to write about our events keeping the appropriate sections sealed or at least disguised.. xx

Ad & Jules said...

Hey, I'm not fixing the car!!

...but we pissed ourselves anyway. You definitely have a flair for writing. Maybe the SMH or The Australian will put you on as a staffer.

Actually, perhaps not, they're a bit too stiff. Maybe Cosmo?

Anyhoo... did u see the bit where I said I'm not fixing the car?

jungle jane said...

actually the damage on the car is from last week trying to park in Birkenhead Point....you will cry when you hear that one...i might have to show you - mathematically the manoevre should be impossible...

Ad & Jules said...

NOTHING you do should be considered impossible...

We're in awe!