The strange encounters were all while Kevin Page was waiting for his vehicle to be serviced. Photo / 123rf
As you giggle over your cornflakes this morning – hopefully – spare a thought for Yours Truly.
I will be ambling around the town I am in at the moment, looking for a good coffee and somewhere to pass a couple or three hours.
That’s because today my car is being serviced and, as is my habit, I’ve opted for the earliest time the service department can comfortably accommodate me without having to haul a mechanic out of the bed of some random supermodel.
I’m told by my mechanic mate that supermodels always go for mechanics – to get down and dirty. If you know what I mean.
Anyway.
Where I am at present, the earliest they can fit me in for my service is 7.30am. They reckon I’ll be sorted by 11am.
What this means is that I will need to find a way to pass the time while I wait.
It also means none of the shops will be open – or at least very few – and establishments offering a coffee and/or a bite to eat will still be in warm-up mode.
I plan to make use of the free internet thing in the service lounge at the garage beforehand to check on world events and the weather – as you do – then I’ll be out looking for coffee.
That’s usually when the fun starts. And it’s all to do with the people you meet.
Now, where I am at the moment seems like a nice, quiet little town so I’m not expecting anything untoward in the Meeting New People Stakes.
Maybe an early morning walker – dog or otherwise – or a tradie grabbing a pie (mince and cheese obviously) from the bakery as he heads out for his day’s labour.
I mention those examples because this is not my first rodeo when it comes to early morning wanderings in such circumstances.
Two instances where I “met” some interesting characters spring to mind.
One, in London many years ago, saw me genuinely fear for my safety as a Cabby Cousin dropped me off for a 7.30am appointment at about 5am in what turned out to be a less than, shall we say, upmarket, neighbourhood.
I’d opted to be dropped off early to beat the rush hour traffic etc.
I’d thought I’d grab a cuppa from the 24-hour cafe I knew would be open then find a bench in the small park in this particular area and essentially watch the sun come up.
What I didn’t realise, and neither did my cousin, or at least so he claims, was that every zombie in London seems to have headed for that particular park at nightfall whereupon they melted into the foliage and undergrowth until daybreak.
So, as the birds started their morning vocal exercises, there I was innocently sitting on a park bench watching the light of a new day emerge slowly across what was actually quite a beautiful landscape in front of me.
Sadly, the scene only remained thus for about five minutes. Then the zombies emerged.
They were everywhere.
The first one literally came up out from under a pile of leaves in the bushes behind my bench which nearly caused me to choke on my coffee.
Then he wanted a cigarette. I didn’t have any. So he asked for money. Quite forcefully in fact.
Maybe it was the way he said it but the mere mention of the ‘M’ word seemed to inspire more zombies to join him and before I knew it I was surrounded, well not literally, but it felt like it, half a dozen creatures of the night.
Needless to say I beat a hasty retreat.
The other occasion I mention was back in good old New Zealand.
This was a Saturday morning and I’d found a mechanic who, as luck would have it, could have a look at my car at 6.30am.
While he did his thing I went for my usual early morning walk.
That’s when I found the dead body.
Male. Somewhere in his 30s I thought. No sign of any foul play, just dead to the world, laying on his back in the doorway of an office block.
Naturally, I rang the police and they immediately dispatched officers to the scene.
They arrived promptly and questions were asked as they prepared to investigate.
No, I hadn’t touched the body. No, I hadn’t seen anybody dodgy hanging around. I’d seen cop shows on telly. I knew the drill.
The answer to the second question was still hanging in the air when the “body” coughed and this very embarrassed bloke who’d obviously celebrated a bit too much the night before woke up.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget the look on the faces of the two young constables, both of whom appeared to be trying to work out whether I should be charged with either wasting police time or just being a dickhead.
It was then I wished I’d taken more notice of the zombies in London so I would have known how to quietly disappear into the background.