Sarcasm or sincerity?

So I got this note under my car windscreen.

I was leaving the office and Elle was with me. From a distance, it almost looked like a ticket. For once, it wasn't.

It was perplexing. I had parked adjacent to a narrow driveway, but snuggled forward as far as I could go. I thought I was fine. But it did seem slightly strange to thank someone on doing the right thing. Elle had her money on sarcastic. I had been aware of the tight space and tried my best. I struggled not to feel vilified. Anyway, maybe she was wrong.

At home, Geoff took Elle's side. Bugger. Maybe I was wrong?

Late last week, my business partner Mandy and I were heading back into the office after a meeting and passed the site where the note had been issued. We're usually too focused on work to chat about such trivialities, but as we were strolling past, I relayed the tale.

Oh, she said with confidence. That was sincere.
How do you know? I asked, in complete awe of her wisdom.
Because I parked there once and was hanging over a bit. Not only did I get a ticket but the guy who lives there was out the front calling the towing company. I think he has them on speed-dial.

So there you go people. There's no need to always assume the worst after all.

Myth busted!

Perhaps like you, I suspected much of my misfortune with my car was karma. When I sold my van, I gave in to the sin of vanity and bought a Porsche. There. I've said it.

In fairness, it was second hand and for the same price I could have had a brand spanking new VW Tiguan (which is pretty much the same as the Cayenne) but I work in advertising and goddamit, I'd been driving a van with sliding doors for four years - I wanted the Porsche!

Since then, as you know, I've copped more parking fines than most people would believe humanly possible. It's been rear ended and Eleanor might have mounted a curb and smacked a pole in her attempt to drive - in fact, while we were in Alaska, my car was enjoying an extended break at the panel beaters. I've replaced the windscreen and the tyres (we could have had a holiday in Bali for the same cost of the latter). The keys got locked in it in remote South Australia (that was also an expensive exercise), we had to have it towed recently after a lovely Sunday lunch in the Yarra Valley (turned out that may not have been absolutely necessary but guaranteed had we not, it would have been something major) and of course, most recently, it was towed from a clearway.

Yes, I too thought it was this car that brought be bad motoring karma and was cursed.

Until I got this in the post last week.....

Yes, that's right - I was in Sydney -  in a HIRE car. Not fancy. In fact, I can't even remember what it was - it was just the cheapest mid-size car available. And yes, that is a fine of $319!!! Outrageous. We all know Sydney's expensive - and hard to drive around - so this was just the icing on the cake. Next time I'll just hire a limo and a driver. It'll be cheaper.

So maybe it's me and not my car after all.

Anyway, no doubt you've also heard VW have had a little bit of an issue with emissions testing, fraud and what have you, plus a big class action brewing so perhaps the Cayenne wasn't the wrong choice after all.

The Thief

A strange thing happened today.

I'd worked at home during the morning and arranged to collect my colleagues on the way to a client meeting. I parked on the main road near the office, which is lined with cafes, antique shops and fancy-pants boutiques.

I was a little early so shot them a text to say where I was - no hurry.

It was about then than I noticed a women pulling a dress off a coat hanger, calmly placing the hanger in the bin right at the front of my car and then stuffing the dress, along with some other garment, into her very large, very full, very expensive Mimco bag.

My immediate reaction was that she'd nicked the dress.

She was smartly dressed with nice clothes, groomed hair, good make up and painted nails. She was also of sub-Continental ethnicity. I chastised myself - was I being racist? Perhaps she just doesn't want her husband to know she's bought more thing... she looked like she could afford it.

I kept an eye on her as did the older gentleman, probably from the antique shop, catching some sun near the bin. She casually walked up the street and I noticed the gentleman 'subtely' taking photos of her. He'd obviously had the same thought as me.

She then strolled to the tram stop and looked up the street for a bus or tram.

It was too much for me. I jumped out of the car and looked in the bin. Yep - coat hanger with fancy brand - the kind of brand where you don't get much chance from a $1000 for a dress. I ran the few doors down to the boutique looking for a sales assistant. I found her - up the back on the phone - just as the bus was pulling up.

Excuse me... I pleaded in desperation.
Hang on darl, I'll need to call you back, she said with clear annoyance and hung up. Yes?
Did you sell that woman a dress? Otherwise she just stole it.
That got her attention.

We ran outside and the woman was in clear vision on the bus which was stopped at the red light.

Which woman? The girl asked.
That one right there in front of us, I said.
The woman started gesticulating to the effect of 'I'm coming back' - cool as a cucumber!
I think I know that woman, the girl said.
So did you sell her a dress - if not, run to the front door and stop the bus.
Panic. Silence. Nothing. Light green - bus gone.
Fuck me that girl was useless.

Meanwhile, the gentleman arrives on the scene with the coat hanger and tag in his hand and photos of the thief on his phone.

My colleagues arrive and we head off to the meeting. Nothing to see here.

I really want to ring the head office of this brand. I think I'm more appalled by the the slackness of the staff than the theft itself!! One was out the back - fair enough - but the muppet I was dealing with was at the very back of the shop on the phone and looking the wrong way!! I could have grabbed a few frocks myself had I been so inclined.

I'll think about it. But if it were my business, I think I'd hope someone would tell me.

PS My proofreader Penny is a little under the pump this week - so I've not bothered her with this. Please excuse typos!!!

Bucket List

I had a first yesterday - a tick that box moment. But it hadn't actually been on my bucket list.

I don't think I have the words to describe the emotional sensation of a late Friday afternoon, sun shining after months of cold and a hectic week, an appointment to have drinks with my sisters-in-laws, picking up my bag and car keys, thinking about where I'd parked - and remembering it was in a space that became a clearway half an hour earlier.

Shit!!

I flew down the stairs, out the door and looked up the street. As expected, my car was gone.

I'd been towed.

Goddammit! I was due at drinks in 30 minutes. I didn't even know who to call.

My friend Katie popped out from the shop our office is above to give me a consoling hug.

Oh well, I said. I had been trying to work out what to do with my car tonight - should I drive to drinks? Go home and see if Geoff could drop me off? Dilemma resolved! I'd Uber.

Our gorgeous account coordinator found the number for me and I called to discover I could collect it before 9pm or today before 1pm. Too easy!

And I was less than 10 minutes late to drinks.

Less cool was the $334 I had to pay to get it out of the pound. Still, I paid $64 for less than 3 hours parking in Sydeey last Friday - so by the hour I guess it was better value than that!

Just for the record, I did ask the guy at the pound how many get towed a day. 90 on a good day, he said. (Yes, that is a hair over $30k). What's a bad day, I asked. 60. I laughed! Good and bad for who?!! And yes, the city is the main location cars are towed from followed by.... Malvern!

I am seriously thinking I should give up this car caper and just ride a bike. Although I'm pretty crap at that and scared of the traffic :(

The ol' backhanded compliment.

Coffee on Sunday morning with the ladies I row with and the conversation turned to the backhanded compliment.

I relayed that at my son George's funeral, we showed a video that included quite a few pictures of him as a baby and of course, I was in a lot of them - 20 years younger. Afterwards, someone (who shall remain nameless to protect the guilty) came up and said
Gee, MWW! You were actually quite attractive when you were young.

Wow. Where to start with that one, eh? Let's break that down shall we?

• 'were' - so definitely not at all now
• 'actually' - because it was clearly such a shock
• 'quite' - so not really a lot, just a little bit
• 'were young' - because now you're old

Some suggested the occasion was also a bit of a whammy - but actually, that was the one part that didn't bother me.

So, back to Sunday.

After rowing, we headed up to the Yarra Valley to meet my uncle at a winery for lunch. We also took an older friend (I can say that as she's about Mum's age). OF (older friend) is a tall, elegant woman with terrific posture, but in some fumbled attempt to pay me a compliment she said something along the lines of 'slightly overweight middle aged women attract more attention because they...... ooze femininity.' It wasn't quite that succinct and there was a lot of hesitating around the words 'slightly' and 'overweight' which actually made it worse.

Anyhoo - it's now Tuesday and that one is still smarting.

Anyone ever paid you the old backhanded complement? Or as I am now dubbing it, the full frontal insult??

Kids in trouble.

The boarding school I went to is in trouble. Big trouble.

There were things that were going on before, during and after I was there that are heinous and now, along with many other institutions, it's all being exposed as part of the Royal Commission into Institutional Responses to Child Sexual Abuse.

Dad asked me on the weekend if I knew any of the named staff, accused of, and in many cases charged with, paedophilia. In fact, one was my English teacher. Many others are also familiar.

I was recently recounting to some friends how when I was at school in the early 80s, serving students alcohol at a Sunday lunch or Saturday night dinner with a house or head master was just what happened. I know some of the boys were regularly offered alcohol by masters and tutors in the privacy of their study. And I distinctly recall cask wine being freely available to all who attended an evening woodwork exhibition. My, how things have changed.

Dad said there were paedophiles at his boarding school too, back in the mid 1940s, and we agreed that the exposure of events was a good thing.

There are those who hanker for a time gone by, when things were simpler and everyone was trustworthy - the police, the government, the church. But in truth, that's a fantasy. I subscribe to the idea that knowledge is power and being alert to what can happen is the better option.

The school is handling this crisis well. They probably have a good PR agency advising them on crisis management, but they're keeping up regular and frank communication, encouraging past students to speak to the Commission as well as offering free counselling.

I feel physically sick hearing of the helplessness of so many of the children, now adults, who have told their stories of being repeatedly subjected to cruel and predatory behaviour by those in authority. Not just at my school, but all of those institutions and varying government and religious persuasions  across the nation.

I was even more sickened to hear on the radio a couple of weeks ago, that there had been 46 reports of abuse of children in care in the preceding two weeks, here in Victoria. Yep, 46.

So it's not just a painful history, it's an everyday reality. To quote the Commissioner; 'There's still a lot of very sad children out there.'

Lost and Found

Sass and I popped down to the Post Office about 9.15 yesterday morning. On the way back, we spotted a couple of small boys, about 2 and 3, on push-along toys on the other side of busy Malvern Road.

Where's their mum? Sass asked.
I'm sure they're with someone, I said.

But on a scan on the vicinity, it was clear they were not. We crossed over to investigate.

Not this kid but about this age.

Where's your Mum? I asked.
Nothing.
Is someone with you?
Still nothing.

It was about then I noticed they were both naked from the waist down and only had long sleeved Ts or pyjama tops on. Ah-ha! Clearly, they'd abandoned their nappies and made a run for it as no parent would take babies out in weather of about 8 degrees with no pants and no shoes. Hmmmm.

Where do you live? Do you know where you live?
The older one gave up his street name. I'd thought they must be just a few houses away but boy - they had travelled some distance!

Sass and I started herding them back in the right direction. On the way up a quieter side street, I noticed we'd attracted the attention of an older couple.
We saw those boys, they said. We didn't know where they came from. Do you know where they live?

Seriously, this is the most gob-smacking part of the story. Yes, kids escape - it happens. But if you had seen two very small boys heading towards a busy, major road with trams and trucks and cars, would it not have occurred to you to stop them?? We'd found them a block away from this point and at any time they could have decided to roll out to cross over. Unbelievable.

No, I said. But we have a street name so we'll find it.

By this stage, the older one had warmed up and we got his and his brother's names. We even got a street number a little later. I had to carry the little one as we were moving quickly and his legs were tired - not to mention his feet bare and his bottom cold.

Eventually, we go them home where their mum had apparently gone to the gym, an older brother was asleep on the couch and dad in bed. They'd not even been missed - which might have been a good thing as no doubt panic would have ensued. So all ended well, but it might not have....