A Communication Mishap

I mentioned already that prior to my Glenrowan road trip there was a trip to Wilsons Prom, which I don’t like to count as an official road trip, partly because neither of us were Australian so we didn’t know about Crowded House and Cheezles, and partly because it was a little bit of a disaster.

I found Sag on Gumtree when I was trying to kick start the universe into providing for me (item 3 on my universe wish-list was a group of nice people with a car that I could travel with). Sag’s advert said he had a car and time on his hands to do some travelling in Victoria.

We met for a coffee to get to know each other a bit and to plan our upcoming trip. He seemed like a nice guy and we got on well, although I did not completely discount the idea that he might be a serial killer. My flat mate reassured me that when you go on a road trip with a stranger, the other person is much more likely to piss you off than kill you. He didn’t have any statistics to back up this claim, but I suspected he was right.

All the same, when Sag picked me up just outside Melbourne city centre I typed the registration of his car into a blank text message. Scrolling through the contacts in my phonebook, I couldn’t think of anyone I could send the text to that wouldn’t either panic unnecessarily or think I was overreacting.

I reasoned that it probably wouldn’t do me much good to send the text anyway. If Sag was a killer, no one would know about it until my body was discovered. Would I really be bothered about whether or not the police could track him down using the registration plate of his car, bearing in mind that I would be dead?

I was just mulling this over, wondering if I owed it to my family to give them a vital clue to help solve my murder, when Sag interrupted my thoughts. “The police in Scotland are very good, aren’t they?”

“I’m sorry, what?” I glanced down at my phonebook again. Maybe I should send that text after all…

“You’ve never heard this before? They are very good at solving cases, if someone gets murdered.”

I knew that Scots had a reputation for being stingy and for drinking whisky, but I didn’t know our police force was renowned. Worried that Sag was calculating how likely it was that he would be caught if he killed me, I decided to play along.

“Yes, that’s right. We have very good police in Scotland. Very good.”

“I thought so. Scotland Yard are very famous.”

Ah.

I tucked my phone back in my pocket. Just a little communication mishap. Nothing to worry about.

It wasn’t until the second communication mishap later that evening that I decided the road trip had earned its little-bit-of-a-disaster label.

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8 thoughts on “A Communication Mishap

  1. In fairness to Sag, it’s an easy mistake to make 😉
    I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again – your writing in these posts – since you went to Oz – is addicitive. Superb.

    • Thanks Rachel, that means a lot to me 🙂

      I think I must have been in my late teens before I realised Scotland Yard was in London. It is indeed an easy mistake to make.

  2. Haha – this just had me and Alex in fits of laughter – the perfect remedy for a cloudy & rainy Koh Lipe (after we realised Sag didn’t have real murder on his mind of course). Looking forward to the next instalment 🙂

  3. Oh, very funny, Helen!

    Your bit about going on a road trip with a stranger likely ending in having you pissed off reminded me of taking a car pool trip down to southern Ontario, and one of the other passengers going on the whole trip about her political activism. By the end of the trip, I’d heard enough political chatter for a lifetime, and was glad to be out of that car.

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