Doctor Johnny said the strap on my toe was a good idea. He asked if I felt any pain when I was in bed at night? I wondered if we were still talking about my toe. I was tempted to answer, that depends if you are doing it right. He asked if there was any stabbing pain? Again, see previous answer.
“I’ll send you for an xray.” He showed me a list and said, “These are the places that don’t charge.”
“Okay.”
“But you don’t have long, as they will close soon.”
I turned in the opposite direction to where I was going intending to do the block and head up Langridge Street to Nicholson Street and through the back streets of Carlton. I thought it would be easier than heading west, essentially, with all the city traffic. All those traffic lights that now litter Victoria Parade, I hate them. Stop start. Stop start. Stop start. I figure one of those whiney, moly-coddled Gen Y’s must have got frightened at an uncontrolled intersection one day and had complained to the government to make the city safer for them.
I’d not travelled one hundred metres when I was stopped at the first red light (the idiot councils are installing those stupid small traffic lights all over the inner suburbs) when I thought, the quickest way from point A to point B can’t be heading away from point B to begin with. What was I thinking? Victoria Street was remarkably empty of traffic, so I dropped a quick U-ie and headed towards the city along Victoria Street.
The traffic took up all of the positions at the lights of Victoria and Hoddle, except for the far left hand side lane, so I quickly slipped on my indicator and change four lanes. There was a truck next to me and a car, a black BMW sedan, and a truck on the other side of it. A semitrailer pulled up next to me in the left hand turn lane, making me feel a little hemmed in. I’m glad I am not one of those namby pamby scardy cat drivers of today who is intimidated by such things, I simply saw it as a challenge.
The lights changed. The two trucks on either side of me selected the first of their sixteen gears and rumbled into life, with the sound of air escaping and metal vibrating, lurching forward visibly. I slid away from them quickly, as did the BMW. I’m still in love with my GTI6, even if in car years – not dissimilar to dog years, I’m sure – she is rapidly becoming an old woman, she can still pick up her shirts and sprint with the best of them, when I give her my right foot. I could have easily left the BMW behind, but instead we did a kind of synchronised driving, as I swapped from lane four to lane one and the BMW did the reverse of that. We just kind of swapped, with the BMW falling in behind me as we did the swap in a big X pattern in Victoria Parade.
Lane four was clear ahead, lane one was not, although the white van in front was moving. Lanes two and three were not clear and were stationary. I had no choice though as I had to turn right immanently. The BMW skirted the mess of traffic in lane four and disappeared out of sight.
The white van now in front was crawling along at a glacial pace, and I couldn’t see through it, it as it had a frosted back window, to see what was in front of it, so much so that lanes two and three cleared. I slipped into lane two to see there was nothing in front of the white van. I felt myself roll my eyes as I whizzed passed. I slipped back into lane one, as soon as I got passed. Pretty quickly there was a long line of cars turning right the last few jutting out into my lane and I had to slip back into lane two and pass all of them. I swapped lanes a couple of time more, in a slalom due to slow drivers until I was in the right hand turn lane into Rathdowne Street. I was way at the back of that lane and there were so many cars in front of me that I thought that I wouldn’t get around on the first green arrow, so I veered left back into the forward lane, figuring I could hang a right at the next side street, Drummond Street, and be on my way, instead of sitting in the right hand turn lane waiting for the next green arrow. The traffic was heavy, but I could see at the next side street that the stopped oncoming cars had left room for those of us wanting to turn right. I watched the white Golf that had been in front of me in the right hand turn lane as it made the green arrow with ease and I thought, Damn!
A slow Hyundai in front of me crawled along, so much so that I wondered if I would make the green light at all, but we did. It continued to crawl along to the right hand turn lane at Drummond Street where it put its right hand indicator on and I thought, Damn! again. It just stopped at the clear path around in front of the stopped oncoming traffic and I wanted to toot, but I didn’t. Then, just as it seemed to timidly inch forward (would that be centimetre forward now a days?) to make its way around, one of the stationary cars sitting at the front of the oncoming traffic decided to turn left, obviously as a spur of the moment decision, not seeing the motor bike coming up on its left and the two collided and the motorbike rider fell off his bike and ended up laying on his back on the ground across the entrance to the lane of Drummond Street that I wanted to use.
“Idiot!” I said, as I banged my hands on the top of the steering wheel. “Oh shit!” I nudged forward up behind the slow Hyundai, which I suspected would fold and just sit and wait it out. I was block in on all sides, there was no way for me to untangle myself from the mess of cars surrounding me. I slumped back against the seat and started to accept defeat. Then, miraculously, the slow Hyundai moved off completing a very smooth U-turn and I followed. It accelerated off into the far left lane and the two of us slid passed all the stationary cars that were heading east and slipped around left into Rathdowne Street as smoothly as you like.
From the jaws of defeat, I thought.
I rocketed up Rathdowne to Queensberry, turned left and then turn right back into Drummond and parked. Phew!
As I walked to the xray building, I started to feel somewhat ashamed of my reaction to the motorbike rider getting knocked off his bike. A man got hit by a car and all I could think was ‘idiot’ and feel concern only for myself and how it was going to affect me. I felt a shiver of shame run up my spine. I called the car driver the idiot, really. But still, I was really only concerned about my path being blocked, it is true. I wasn't shocked, I was more annoyed than anything. I didn’t really think the rider was hurt, however, it all happened slowly and he kind of slid on the road. But still...
I guess I am a true 21st century human being after all, despite what I may say to the contrary. The thing that would have made that statement more true was if I'd got out my iPhone and filmed the whole thing.
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