The Chase

This is an old story that happened to me back when I was living in Australia. Some part of it might sound a bit “far-fetch” but I can assure you that this has really happened.

The story begins at my university graduation night. The boring ceremony is happening at the Brisbane Power House. Being one of the rare individual who got a job after finishing the two years of torture, I have my self esteem skyrocketing. (AKA… I am the coolest thing on earth)
Anyway, to cut a long story short, we receive our diploma. We take photos. We shake hands. And we start drinking hard!

I run out of the steamy auditorium to be the first one at the tiny bar. I grab myself two double Jim Beam and cola. (I have a great group photo for this. I am at the front not looking at the camera and trying to sip on my glass while my piece of paper is up side down and dipping in my second drink…)

We end up going out afterward. Some posh people want to go boring city… the others want to go valley. Screw it, we are off to press club. (A good trade off between the 2…)

Unsurprisingly, we all get pretty fucking fucked. We somehow end up at the R.G. and around 0300 O’clock; I decide that I have had enough. I am going home.

*hugs*hand shakes*hugs*hand shakes* and I am off.

I live on Mulgrave Street in a nice neighborhood called Spring Hill which is quite near the valley (~ten minutes walk). So screw the two hours wait for a cab… I walk home. I have done it several times and nothing awkward ever happened. Everyone keeps telling me to not take any chances and to cab it… and obviously I do not listen to them.

So I make my way from the crowded Valley Mall on to the filthy Wickam Street, heading toward the city. I see on my right three (obviously intoxicated) people hanging (not something rare at this time and place). One of them sounds like he is trying to push someone into doing something. I think I hear him say to the other guy “come on cunt, just fuckin do it!”

I cross the deserted road not minding them and I keep walking. I just want to get to bed and I am pretty smashed. About midway through Wickam street, I glance back to see that a silhouette is walking behind me. The distance between me and him is roughly 15-20 meters. “Someone else who is walking home” I think to myself.

But then I hear “hey you! Come here!”

…

and then I think to myself...

"Come here…"

"Come here?"
Who the fuck asks you to “come here” at 3 a.m.? I can think of only two options.

1. He is a drug dealer who wants to sell me something
2. He wants to mug me

I am not interested in either of them. The only thing that I want is getting home and sleeping.

I reply to his order with a “nahhh can’tttt bwe fuakcrdsfvdsfvdb”

And I carry on walking.

I arrive at the Virgin building. I usually cut through their flowerless garden to then use the small streets. I can make it to my house quicker that way. There is only one problem… the guy is still following me.

At this point alarm bells are ringing in my (blurred out) mind. I am trying to think of something logical to do. Maybe I can go talk to some girls across the street? Hmmm, not a good option. They probably cannot fight and I would just be endangering them too. I decide that whenever I turn the corner that leads to the garden (which is a completely dark alley at this time and no one can hear or see you getting stabbed and mugged), I will start running. It is always a good idea to run at night. You look allot fitter and people are more reluctant to harass you. They prefer drunk and tired targets.

So I run at a steady pace. Once I reach the distance from the corner which equals to the distance that there was between me and the other dude who was walking behind me, I see him turn the corner running. Basically if I did not have the gut feeling to start running… the guy would have caught up with me and I would not have seen it coming.

I flick my almost extinguished cigarette on the littered pavement which explodes in many yellow sparks. I decide to sprint. I am a smoker but if I am being chased, I can fucking run fast. Only two problems.

1. I am wearing some new puffy skate shoes which are not tied up with reason that it makes the laces look bigger and puffier and therefore cooler by default and I keep losing my shoes which is not great for performance

2. I am pretty damn fuckin drunk and tired

Then I hear him scream “YOU’RE GONNA DIE YOU FUCKIN CUNT!!!” Oh shit… he is serious… I do not want to die. I am also getting out of breath. I am running up hill toward St-Paul terrace (not the nicest neighborhood neither but at least I am out of the dark and there are cars and taxis there)

So I run with all my might. I feel like my atrophied legs are going to collapse. I feel a deep and painful sensation in my blistered feet but I keep running. I use some of my strength to look behind and see if my attacker is still following me… oh shit! He is catching up! He must have been quite fit because I was fucking running hard by this time. Running up hill is quite a work out.

I finally start to see some street lights ahead of me. Thank fuck I am almost there. I push my pace which is already way above its maximum gear. But, at the same time there is a question that bothers me big time. Once I reach the terrace, I have two choices;

1. I cross the road, jump the spiky fence which has a 3-4 meters drop on the other side and lands in a primary school playground. (This playground also becomes work ground for hookers, junkies and homeless at night. I could have easily landed on a used needle)

2. I keep running up on St-Paul terrace to then use my usual way home but via running. This is not a great option because I am out of strength and do not know how persistent my chaser is going to be.

Screw this! I am going for option 3!

3. Hope for an empty taxi to pass so that I can jump into it and everything will be alright from that point on

So anyway I get out of the dark and stop running right in the middle of the deserted road. I look on both sides to see if any cars are coming. There is one coming from the Valley but I can only see the glare of his amber front lights. I can not tell if it is a taxi. It could be more bad people as far as I know. I can not run any further so I say “fuck it”

I start waving my sweaty arms around to make it stop. The rusty station wagon comes to a halt next to me. It is not a taxi but I tell the young driver:

“Dude! Dude! There’s a guy chasing me!!! Can you give me a lift home, I live just down the road!”

“yeah alright…” replies the driver

So I jump in the "escape pod" and we take off. The guy was actually pretty cool. He drops me home and before I jump out of the automobile… he says:

“hey, do you want a bud? You look like you need it”

Hahaha! Sweet!

“Fucking oath I do, my heart is about to explode”

The “Good Samaritan” opens his squeaky arm rest and pulls out a plastic bag with at least half a pound of weed in it. He puts his hand in it and grabs a bud that would weight about 1.5 gram. He hands it to me and tells me to have a good night.

I barricade myself in my small home with my over used bong and my Nokia mobile phone sms’ing everyone about my adventure.

Obviously the last part with the weed just made people go “yeah whatever… we know you like getting attention but this is fucking far fetch”. But anyway I do not give a shit… I have rarely been this scared and I can swear that this has actually happened. It has not stopped me from walking home at night but made me allot more prudent.

People around here can be a bunch of fucking twats

All right. Time for my hatred of the day (or week... or month...). It has been a while since the last time where I wrote something. I have been über busy but this time; it is about stuff that matters.

Whether or not the title shocks you, please carry on reading. You might just learn something. When I am saying "around here", I am talking about people who resides in the majestic island-country that we call "Singapore". Although, it might apply to other countries.

My bitching for today will be targeted at the people on the road even though the basic principle goes a bit deeper than this. (I do want to keep it short)

There are many ways that you can be a backward ass fuck on the roads. Cutting someone. Driving under the influence. Speed up when you see someone who is trying to merge into your lane on the freeway. Not blinking your indicators. The list goes on. But the one that I am about to talk about is even worst than any of the above.

As you may or may not know, I live across the road from the hospital. (Yes the same one that is mentioned in a previous post) Every now and then, I will hear an ambulance or see some red lights flashing. (Nothing unusual so far)

So lets just play a little guessing game here. Lets pretend that you are nearby a hospital. You see an ambulance that is driving twice the speed limit. The lights are flashing like if it is Christmas. It is screaming that atrocious noise that you can hear four blocks down the road.

What does all this mean?

Have you guessed it?

Yes! You have guessed it! (You must be smarter than your average Singaporean) Someone is seriously injured and is in need of medical help with the priority level of ASAFP (As Soon As Fucking Possible).

So here comes my question... why aren't people letting it pass through?

Seriously... you got to be fucking stupid(or an asshole on an Olympic level). And I have seen this several times. The ambulance is stuck on a street corner trying to turn and not a single driver has the curtsy of letting it go first. Its like if everyone in Singapore is late for his or her football game or something. Don't you guys realize that there's someone in pain who is more in a hurry than you? How do you justify that someone in Vietnam can cross the road walking in the middle of hundreds of scooters without getting hit and that in Singapore, an ambulance can not even cross the road when there is five cars passing.

I am not the biggest fan of the typical Australian behavior after having lived there for six years. But one basic thing remains. Even if you are in the middle of a traffic jam that goes for 5 km... People in Australia would still make an effort to get the fuck out of the way.

Can you imagine having a broken hip and having to wait after someone who is in rush to be first in line at the lottery ticket changing counter? I mean fuck... priority management anyone?

Anyway, I am cutting this here. I could carry on about "keeping your place in line" around here.

PS: Maybe ambulances should use hummers and drive like this

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdpPXubi38g