The other day when I was walking down Well Street to grab the paper a really old guy whizzed past me on a bike. While this is nothing that usual, what caught my eye was that he was dressed head to toe in a fluoro Kappa tracksuit, wearing a huge gold medallion and backwards cap and that his bike was a hotted up BMX.
"Woaaah," said my very impressed internal monologue. "He'd be amazing for the blog. I could explain that he was a perfect example of what you would look like if you'd just woken up from a 60 year coma caused by a BMX accident. I'd need a picture of him, so I could say that I work for BMXing Australia and that I was doing an article on the implications of wearing incontinence pants while freeriding. Hopefully he won't ask for a card, but if he does I'll just say that I've already given them all out down at the Sunny Vista estate and that he could grab one down there from Beryl if he liked, so long as he didn't ask about her recent divorce. 'Yikes' I would then say, for effect."
It was brilliant.. until I remembered that:
a) I didn't bring my camera
b) it had taken me two hours to make up the joke about the coma
c) the old guy was long gone
I was left feeling vaguely uncertain, as though I'd somehow invented the entire scenario in my head; just like in the Labyrinth where that chick wakes up and can't believe David Bowie could actually be the head of the muppets, while at the exact same time have such enormous hair and bad dress sense.
Paying for my newspaper, I cautiously asked the lady behind the counter whether she had seen any old guys getting around today, you know, like on a BMX or something. She turned her head and looked at me out of the corners of her eyes; the way people do when you walk into a bookstore and ask if they have any other books in a similar vein to 'The Notebook', because you're on a bit of an emotional roller-coaster right now and that book made you feel as though you had something to live for and you have every intention of keeping that buzz going, man.
"Forget it." I said quietly and walked out, not collecting my change. Then it occurred to me that the old guy and the paper lady probably have a racket going and are taking over the world, 20p at a time.
I'll find you, geriatric BMX bandit. And when I do, I'm taking the best damn picture of you the world has ever seen. And then I'm taking my 20p back. I'm taking them all back.
More tales of delusion and grandeur over at humor-blogs.com. Please click that link for me? It helps me out a lot while at the same time helps starving kids in that place.. overseas. The dusty one. It's totally win win.
8 comments:
Ohhh lordy, that was so very funny, thank you for writing that, its a much needed change to the conceited and mauldin, myspace blogs I've been wastefully reading this past half hour.
Glad you enjoyed it Ms Treehouse, come back anytime. We gots cakes.
Fantastic! I think that post just made my day :)
There - but for the grace of god and a few decades - go I (and probably you too, Davey).
I like the geriatic BMX bandit of my own imagination better anyway, thanks. Although, I'm sure you mean well. V. funny post :-)
Nerd Girl. Ta love, glad you got one good day this week! Keep that ankle elevated, y'hear?
Kath: C'mon trixie, there's life in the old girl yet. Why just last week I discovered that a Wii system was not some new method of urinating. Marvelous!
Blakkat: Yeah, a photo probably would spoil his allure somewhat. I guess some birds just weren't meant to be caged.
Holy shit! You've got cakes?!! And I've been missing out all this time!!
btw, I liked this post too. Nice to know it's not only my brain that works like that.
And when I say 'works', well, that's likely a matter of opinion. Perhaps 'spasms incoherently' would be more accurate. (But then... I'm using my brain to analyse this so I could be wr... Did you say cakes?)
G'day Davey
I was reminded of this post this morning because I reckon I've found Old Man BMX's brother, right here in Adelaide.
He zoomed by, at a flamin' 1km per hour - leaving me marveling at just how he managed to stay *on* his push bike - and was clad in full-on leather padded gear that a Hell's Angel would be proud of.
Any ferocity intended in his look was negated by his 1970s style white motorbike helmet that had tiny side mirrors clipped above both ears. Finishing the look was a white beard only fractionally less luxuriant than Santa Claus'.
I was too fascinated to whip out my digi camera and he was last seen rolling down the alleyway towards the Hospital. I can only guess what specific medical treatment he'd be seeking.....
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