05 September 2012

I Swear I'm Not Doing a Period Drama


It’s absolutely amazing how impressions that are a long way off the mark can be made - and how indelible they will inevitably be.

Yesterday, I traded a Ford Ute for a Jag. At the trading yard I needed to take the remaining 1% of crap that I wanted from the old car to the new one before doing the paperwork. Stuff like the eTag, the old directory and some other items:

1) A doctor's bag. I had a birthday recently and at my request Emergency Contact gave me an antique doctor’s bag. They are unusual in a world full of synthetic back-packs. They are leather, which I like. They have big, gaping mouths that make it easy to fossick around for leads and cords and PC bits and pieces (which I do daily). They are big enough to take a laptop, paperwork, a tablet, and sundry crapola and sturdy enough to keep all that junk protected. They are lockable. They are uncommon and practical.

2) A walking stick. A few years ago, I fractured an ankle. I was on a walking stick periodically for a couple of months as it mended. I haven’t used the stick for years and had forgotten that it was rattling around under the passenger seat of the ute.

3) Dark grey suit. I arrived at the dealership from work, wearing a muted, conservative grey suit.

So, down at the car yard, a tall man in a grey suit, carrying a walking stick and doctor’s bag, got out of a Ford one-tonner, walked over to a Jag and started loading the kit into it.

They yardies stared at me, unable to decide if they were watching the weirdest episode of All Creatures Great and Small or an elaborate car-jacking.

(I wasn’t as amused at their infernal gawping and, removing my monocle with as much dignity as I could muster, I poked one of them in chest with the stem of my hickory pipe and gave the unprincipled scoundrel a piece of my mind.)

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