I was waiting at the train station to pick up a friend (let's call him Chubbers), it was twilight and visibility was mediocre. Unable to find a reputable car spot, the Mazda 3 had to reside to a narrow backstreet roughly 50 metres from the station. Chubbers had no idea what car I drove, fortunately there were no other vehicles in the street, so I assumed finding me wouldn't become too arduous of a task.
From where I was the rattling of an approaching train resonated. I was apprehensive to believe that my friend would find the car, so I called him. It didn't ring, instead I was greeted with a pre-pubescent, nasally voice mail message that left me in stitches.
I tried calling several more times but with no luck. I was however repeatedly amused by the high pitched, whiny voice mail message. It occurred to me that it sounded identical to him as a 19 year old man, post puberty.
Finally, Chubbers answered. *Engage flawless navigational directions*.
"Yeah mate, just walk across the road from the other side of the platform, follow the street to the right and then take the next left. I'll be the closest car parked as you go round the corner."
Almost instantaneously, just as I finish my sentence, a large silver Volvo parks about 5 metres behind me. I'm watching intently in my rear vision mirror as the driver of the car leans in to kiss his wife in the passenger seat and then hops out of a car with a sheet of paper in one hand (A shopping list I presume).
A devious plan sparks. Still on the phone to my friend I casually mention "I'm in the big silver Volvo as you walk round the corner". Yes, I'm a terrible person, but how often does this opportunity arise? Violent giggling was ready to burst from my lungs, but I kept my cool.
In the distance I could see an overweight, pudgy teenager draped in a hoodie approaching. Here he comes! I prepare myself, choosing my words carefully; this was the make or break moment.
"I can see you! I'm just ahead!" I assert.
"Oh yeah, the Volvo right? Or the Mazda with the green P plates?" he queries hesitantly.
"Yep! Volvo!" I respond impatiently.
In the rear vision mirror, it is clear that the woman in the passenger seat of the Volvo has noticed the approaching stranger. Troubled, she turns her head and sits upright. I am witnessing the whole thing unfold, and it is absolute poetry.
He walks right up to the passenger window and grabs the door handle expecting to see an empty seat, and me as the driver. He locks eyes with the poor woman and they simultaneously recoil away from each other, startled. The woman becomes flustered and clumsily grabs at the car door interior with one hand, scrambling for the lock with the other. Chubbers is standing there frozen for a concerning amount of time with a dumbfounded expression on his face.
I could hear him frantically asking questions to me over the phone but I was too entertained to respond. It was like someone was trying to talk to me in the middle of an action scene during a movie.
Here I am sitting in the car in front absolutely losing my mind, one hand is covering my mouth, and I'm buckling with silent mirth. Unable to contain myself any longer, explosive laughter detonates from within my lungs. He turns his head to the left and sees me sitting in the Mazda hysterically convulsing. Like a raging bull he storms over to the passenger door (correct car this time).
You know how you can sometimes take a joke too far? Well I'm not very well educated in that regard...
Just before he opens the door I flick on the door lock. He's standing there in a raging fit glaring at me, seething. The woman in the Volvo is now on the phone, I notice her husband has just rounded the street corner and is storming towards us, sights locked onto Chubbers. It was a game of chicken. Chubbers stares at me threateningly. I look back at him, tears rolling down my face, giggling like a schoolgirl.
I roll down the rear window slightly and yell "HELP! HELP! I'M BEING OPPRESSED!" in between laughter, gasping for air. The Volvo hero increases in pace, quickly making ground towards Chubbers, flapping his arms around in the air as if he is trying to fly.
My knight in shining armour nears the car, ready to deal with this delinquent. But he is abruptly stopped at the sound of my jovial moat of amusement. He catches on and we straighten the whole thing out, although my friend is still pissed.
"Why didn't you just look for the green P plates?" I snicker.
"f**k you Josh."
Thanks for the inspiration Lachy <3