Fun on the Weekend

Now all the drama of the day is over, I am free to ruminate over the happenings of my action-packed weekend!

Highlights/lowlights include:

1. Endless football games on TV all Saturday

I think it might have been rugby, but what do I know. All I know is that The Man assured me they were all of vital significance in the nation’s sporting history, thus we had to have men running around chasing a ball across a field on our TV screen all day. I didn’t mind, though, because while the Man can be a little overbearing at times, sport on TV throws him into a trance during which I could get up to anything and he won’t notice. I took the opportunity to cook up a storm. I made a huge pan of vegetable soup, naan bread and banana muffins. This was accompanied by an inevitable giant mound of cleaning, the dark side of any baking endeavour. I was so exhausted by the end of the day I needed to be carried to bed by a buff young warrior*. (But I wasn’t – I had to hobble there myself).

2. Being chased round and round the car by a pelican

On Sunday, the Man and I drove down to Nowra and the surrounding area for the day, and had lots of tourist fun, including seeing a steam train. (We got out to watch it pass at a level crossing and its whistle nearly blew us away). On our way back we stopped for fish and chips.

This shop stands alone in a little car park, overlooking a stretch of water. I don’t know if it’s a river or something – I never notice stuff like that – it’s just water that isn’t the sea. The Man first took me there three years ago, when I’d first arrived in Australia. We bought fish and chips, then drove the car round to the car park at the back to eat them. Within minutes, the car was surrounded by a whole flock of seagulls, mostly airborne, and a hopeful looking pelican. Ours was the only car in the car park – can’t think why. We threw titbits out of the windows to our friends outside. I was terrified for most of the ordeal, especially when the pelican tried to poke its beak in through the open window! I wished that we had bought the birds some fresh fish, instead of feeding them greasy, deep fried fish and chips. I’ve been wishing that ever since, and finally on Sunday I got my wish.

So we bought a bag of chopped, raw fish along with our fish and chips, and drove to the car park behind the shop, just like last time. Once again, we drew a hungry crowd. The seagulls crapped all over our car and a mournful looking pelican tried to jack open the window with its beak. As I cowered inside, the Man told me he couldn’t believe what a wimp I was being, after I’d spent the afternoon excited about going there. Just to shut him up, I agreed to get out and feed them before they completely destroyed our vehicle. That’s when the pelican chased me round the car, screaming (me), its eyes rolling and lower beak billowing in the wind like a sinister pink balloon. I escaped by throwing the Man the bag of fish and jumping into the car. Scary.

3. Road and Supermarket Rage

The next day, I had my weekly driving lesson with my beloved. I was all happy and enthusiastic after last week’s lesson where I finally found some confidence. I couldn’t wait to drive aimlessly round and round my suburb again!

Everything was fine until about five minutes into my pointless, 15 kph circuits of our block. I got to this very narrow street to find a cyclist coming towards me. I freaked out a bit. The Man told me to pull further in to the left, but since I have no idea where the car ends, I didn’t, and ground to a stop instead. I reasoned that stopping might make me look like an idiot, but it was better than having to pay for street full of parked car doors to be repainted and I couldn't possibly injure the cyclist from a staionary position. The cyclist managed to get past me then hollered, “Move over, you cunt!”

Now, people don’t normally yell at me like that, so I was a bit shaken, but started driving again. The Man told me he agreed with the cyclist, and started lecturing me about my driving and telling how crap I was. My eyes started to fill with tears to the point that I realized I was even more of a danger to the public than I usually am behind the wheel, and I pulled over and started crying. Driving lesson over.

Is it actually acceptable to scream abusively at learner drivers for offenses such as driving slowly during off-peak traffic times? Or am I really such a bad driver? I don’t feel like learning to drive any more.

So then we went to Aldi. It was closing but I ducked inside, willing my face to stop being all blotchy from crying, because it’s embarrassing, and the Man waited for me in the front of the store. I was just paying for my bread when I heard this big, irrationally angry man shouting something at one of the assistants. The Man, who was standing about two metres away from the big, irrationally angry man (B.I.A.M.), told him in a mild voice that the shop had just closed, and that was why he couldn’t bring a trolley in.

“WAS I TALKING TO YOU?” yelled B.I.A.M.
“Give him a break” said my guy. “How would you like to work here?”
“I DON’T WANT TO WORK HERE!” said B.I.A.M., who evidently had a B.A. (Hons) in Missing the Point.
“They’re not letting anybody in.”
“I’M NOT JUST ANYBODY!! WHY DO YOU CARE? DO YOU KNOW HIM?”
“He’s my cousin” lied the Man, probably thinking how smart he was.
The store manager asked B.I.A.M. to leave, and he did (taking his child in its push chair with him) bellowing “LET’S TAKE THIS OUTSIDE!” To my relief, the Man ignored him and stayed in the shop, while I glanced at my change and wondered if I’d deliberately been short changed. I’m sure I gave the assistant a $20, not a $10. I’d had enough fights for one day so I let it go.

So we went home, both feeling chagrined and brought down a peg or two. The Man was seething, as I knew he would be, and grumbled that if he wasn’t short and lightly-built, the B.I.A.M. wouldn’t have dared talk back to him, and how he wished he could morph into a seven foot Maori at will and pulverise people. He always gets like this when he’s been in an altercation. You can see where the market is for all those movies were the nerd unexpectedly turns into super-hero and has vengeance on anyone who ever bullied him.

I know it’s mean but I was glad The Man got yelled at too. So now we were even. And in between fantasies in which I reversed over the cyclist, shrieking “I’m an incompetent learner driver in possession of a powerful car, so don’t piss me off!** Ahahahaha!!!!”, I reflected that it’s important not to lose your temper with people because it might upset them more than you envisioned.


*My taste in trashy romances has overcome me once again.

**It does surprise me how willing people are to honk and shout abuse at learner drivers. Don’t they know how much danger they are in? Do they not understand I only have a thin grasp of which is the brake pedal and which is the accelerator? Has it not occurred to them their vehicle/body only remains intact by virtue of my 100% concentration on the job? ‘L’ does not stand for ‘Victim’. It stand for ‘may accidentally maim you or total your car due to inexperience and incompetence. So watch the fuck out.’