2005-01-27 - 4:42 p.m.
Our scenario is thus.
The bitter evening wind lashes around a half empty carpark. Two huge mounds of snow sit at both ends fueling the freezing temperatures and the cold dances between the two, dodging the lonely vehicles as they wait, chryogenicaly frozen, for their masters to awaken them.
One such master (our hero) Arrives late to his transportational vestibule on wheels and is greeted with ill will. Lights come on, the irritating and totally useless alarm sound indicating the door you have open is.. open? wails insignificantly and the radio lights dull as.... not a sound comes out of the heart my transport. Numerous attempts to fool the car into thinking the battery is not flat at all, by randomly trying to start it after chaotic breaks in the ignition turning, just fail miserably.
So, I connect my extra long jump leads to my poor dead battery and await a passing vehicle for new life.
THIS is when things get interestingly obtuse.
After ten minutes or so, a nice jag turns into the carpark and very slowly, two men drive past me. I am making deliberate and fairly obvious gestures with my pleading self, jump leads in hand, as they continue to drive around me and then continue on their merry, warm and cosy way. Nice. I watch irritated as they drive to the train station just the other side of the car park and sit in their car. "Whatever" I quietly shrug and muse at the awful and ugly ignorance at such folly.
Ten more minutes pass, a man exits the vehicle and heads towards the station. The car then ROARS into action and the driver, seemingly having just snorted far too much cocaine at that very instant, veers around the carpark and straight for me. Hooray, I think to myself, guilt has finally got the better of this degraded son of a...... wait, I should save my hatred for later.
So, here I am. All I need is from this "gentleman" is to pop his hood (bonnet) and allow me some juice from his battery.
He has parked, well, perhaps screetched to a halt is better, in a position that is useless for the length of my quite long jump leads to make any possible connection. He exits his vehicle and slowly lights a cigarette and says to me, in a voice not totally different from your average most hated American arsehole (pick one) "Bet you thought I'd left you for dead huh?" To which I shrug indifferently given that the answer in my head may not bode well for the eventual use of power or any further congeniality between us. " I just had some business to attend to" he adds. Business that he conducted in his car not more than 80 yards from me? OK.
He then proceeds to let me know that he will "re-position" the car for optimum transfer and gets back in, SCREAMS around the carpark like someone that has never driven in icy cold conditions before and returns to almost the exact same spot except maybe 2 yards (sorry aussies) closer. I stand waiting for hood popping sounds. He pops. Then exits the vehicle to open the hood. As he does I edge closer as, by now, I am really cold and losing what is left of my renowned patience (not) All I want to do is connect to his battery for thirty seconds. He motions for me to move away and I realise that he may be particular as to who sticks their head under his hood, "WHAT-EVERRRRRRR" my mind shouts. He sees his passenger at this time coming towards us, "Allan" he shouts (for twas his name) "what are you doing?" Allan explains his train schedule is out of date and the train won't be there far ages. The arsehole (for tis definately his name) turns to me and says "He is my partner and he hates me smoking" Completely bemused at this benine remark I shrug once more and continue to juggle possible brilliant and witty sarcasms that he will never get in my head. At his further request I casually drop the jump leads and proceed to my car so that when he has decided all is well, I can start up and be on my way to warmth and more importantly, my Delicious.
As I sit in my car he heatedly shouts" Don't do anything till I say!" with accompanying hand gestures.
"Certainly sir," I calmly reply through clenched teeth (saving MY appropriate hand gestures for later)
"Have you done this before?" he shouts
"yes, many times, all I need is a jump!" I reply, clearly becoming fed up with this RUNT of a man.
He then proceeds to connect the leads to his car and disconnect my leads?! Irritation floods my system much like the liquified dead in the Matrix scene with the little baby (Morpheus is narrating - obviously) and I struggle for composure. Replacing them to his obviously exacting standards he moves back to his car and shouts "wait till I say, then start her up. He then revs his engine (unnecessary) to an RPM that would be enough to start a B-52 bomber in Iceland and gives me the go ahead. I start up, instantly I might add, and before he has got out of his car I have grabbed the jump leads, disconnected and shut my hood. I began to reverse out, thanking him rather non chalontly as he delicately walks around his car preparing himself to shut his hood.
I look forward to the time when I am the man that has to give him somes help,mouth to mouth recucitation maybe, so that I can look at him, light a cigarette, attend to some business, return, joke about it, then help him out. Oh, was I too late? sorry.
p
"Whats up? dick head" Moses Sackowitz 01.27.05
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