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Year View| Summary| Highlights| Month View| Sunday 20 November 2005 (Day View) – I attend a doof, a car chase, a birthday and a BBQ

20.11.2005Sunday 20 November – Much Doof, Stolen Cars, Police & A Birthday

The sun is up. This is not particularly good. No one has slept, and no one is looking forward to its bright, hot rays, forcing daytime upon their pumping nighttime world. Ragnhild has just gone to bed, as she has to work in a few hours.
I had to be back in Sydney by a specific time, for a BBQ and birthday. I knew how long it took to get to Newcastle, and how long it took to get from there to Sydney. I knew how to get to Dale’s place in Newcastle, although only the one way, meaning I had to drive there that specific way or I’d be lost. Ragnhild had even lent me her car to drive there. What could possibly go wrong? Someone could steal someone’s car, as a joke. They could then decide that the police would take a very dim idea to car-theft as a joke, or their lack of licence and current off-their-guts-on-drugs state. This could result in their taking evasive action, followed by an ultimately unsuccessful police chase. The car’s owner could then discover that his wallet, and more importantly, cigarettes, are in his stolen car, and that the only possession of his still on his person is his credit-less mobile phone. He could also be the only person at the rave who happened to urgently need to be somewhere else. Obviously, the clever chap who stole the car would have a flat battery in his phone, so no one could actually find out what had happened, apart from his garbled text message saying something had gone wrong, and I would be the only coherent person around able to both focus on moving objects and move at normal human speeds. Clearly, something like this would only happen if Ragnhild’s car didn’t have enough fuel for the long detour involved in chasing up this stolen car; needless to say, it didn’t, and I arrived in Newcastle via a road other than the single one I knew, meaning I had to be very fortunate to find Dale’s.
Fortunately, I’m a very fortunate sort of person, and found Dale’s place with the help of some maps ripped out of the front of a phone book, dumped Ragnhild’s car, got a taxi from there to the train station, and a train back to Sydney, arriving at the BBQ just as the last guests were leaving. Apparently thinking all this is fortunate is the sign of an optimist, which, I’m pessimistically sure, must be a bad thing. After an abortive attempt at going to town for dinner, I eat a few of the myriads of yummy leftovers, and retire to bed tired from my all-nighter last night.

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