The perils of modern living

On my way back to work after lunch with lovely girlfriend yesterday, I hopped on a tram on Collins Street. Before it even reached the next stop, some bloke in a seat near the front keeled over, his two sneakered feet the only thing visible to me, sticking out into the aisle. The driver stopped at the next stop and called an ambulance, while another passenger who had the air of authority and looked like he might have medical experience leant over the unconcious bloke. The bloke awoke, obviously startled, his eyes very wide with a very spaced-out look. He seemed very dazed, but the driver and the other passenger seemed to be handling things okay, so since the tram was going nowhere (and a tram jam was quickly developing behind it) I got out, told the driver of the tram behind what had happened, then walked the four blocks back to work, beating the resuming trams by quite some time.

Later on driving through Carnegie to go pick up the kids, I saw flashing blue and red lights up ahead on the other side of the road. Policewoman in middle of road, interviewing a driver. Like the car in front of me, I drove past slowly to be sure not to hit anybody or anything. Well okay, and to have a brief look. From the looks of it, a (minor) four car bumper-to-bumper pile-up. Apart from the police, also an ambulance present (hopefully not subject to the overblown response times we’re hearing about, since the nearest ambulance station is about 30 seconds from there). Hopefully nobody injured.

Ah, the perils of modern living.

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6 Replies to “The perils of modern living”

  1. My new life as a cycle-commuter has fewer pile-ups/tales of fellow passenger weirdness.

    Though a white transit van nearly reversed into me the other day.

  2. Here in California, people usually come to a complete stop and gawk for a few minutes. Even if the accident is on the other side of the highway/road/etc. They get upset when you honk. Its as if they think that by honking at them to move on isn’t caring enough about the driver being cut out of the car.

  3. Greetings, American buddy.

    Well, I’ll be brief. After three weeks in *G.B.A. I felt I could say what I like. And indeed, felt called upon to do so.

    It was an urge really. An urge that began one morning as I strolled down Rodeo Drive getting scrutinised by all the cafe lizards. Suddenly a little crisis occurred; across the street some bloke was scampering alongside an empty 4WD which was gently rolling itself down the slope – heading for the rear of another parked vehicle. I couldn’t work out what was going on at first, then realised he was (frantically) trying to get the door open so he could grab the handbrake. Well, he got the door open alright, but had no time for anything else, because right then the bang happened.

    Meanwhile, I’d kept walking. I passed two young businesspersons (men) who’d stopped to watch the show. “It’s a raaaal away,” one of them said.

    “Well,” I declared, “If he’d thrown himself under it he could have stopped it.”

    Why did I say that? I’ve no idea. Only that I was fed up. And what’s more, this was the land of talk.

    *Gawd Bless America.

  4. THat’s part of the problem -all talk and very little thought. Especially in Calif.-Land of the Politcally Correct (lack of original content of speech and thought) self-annointed jugers of all. Be glad you made it out alive. I’m 5ft 10in tall and weigh 260 lbs and in that part of California I can smell the judgement of the cafe lizard when I walked by.

  5. Forgot to mention that very few of these SUV/4wd never ever never see anything other than a paved road. Heaven forbid that one of things is actually used for what it was designed for.

  6. Well thanks, but common sense can’t be taught; the main suckers for political correctness here have university degrees. Sheep.

    We have less population than America, and so we have less silly people – but it works out the same, by percentage.

    Your(dopiest)ideas come here, but that’s our blame, not yours.

    Americans treated me well.

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