Wednesday 24 September 2014

Stranger in the Black Coat

I tend to stress when I am in a situation that I can’t control or ignore. I have even passed out at times, partly because of the stress. Not often enough to be of any great concern, but I suppose that random bouts of unconsciousness is cause for some concern.

I found myself in just such a situation the other day. I was downtown in a city that was unknown to me and had to meet Louise and another friend at the train station to catch our connection. I can’t remember how we were separated, and really it doesn't much matter, all that mattered was getting to the station.

I didn't have any money, so the bus and taxi were out of the picture. There was only one thing I could do and when that guy drove up to the curb and ran into the store leaving his car running, I slipped in, put it in gear and was out of sight before I realized what I had done. It was one of those tiny European cars, but it ran and hopefully would get me where I wanted to go. If only I knew where the train station was and how to get there.

Asking for directions was out, all that I had learned of the language was “Can I open the window? and Can I close the window?” You would think that “How do I get to the train station?” would be the second phrase in the book, right after “How much?” I drove up a hill and below me I could see train tracks leading to the centre of what might possibly be the downtown station. I just pointed the car down and started to follow streets and alleys that went more or less right direction.

I was making pretty good time until this tall guy dressed in a black ankle length coat and riding a bicycle cut me off. I didn't even know how to swear! It didn't matter, because I had to be pretty close, just a few more alleys and I should be close enough that I will see or hear the train station. I drove up and down a few alleys and the guy in the black coat cut me off again and I ended up driving through an open air market.

Being the only car on a street filled with pedestrians makes you somewhat conspicuous. Add to that the fact that I was driving a stolen car and you can almost see the stress building up. I almost felt like I was one of the Blues Brothers when they were driving through the mall being chased by the cops. I knew I shouldn't be there but I was fascinated by all of the neat stores and interesting people. Well not the two cops up ahead that were looking at me and moving in my direction.

I couldn't go back and I couldn't really go forward at any speed. It looked like I would find out what the inside of a foreign jail looked like. Just when I thought I was a goner, that asshole in the black coat rode up on his bike, blocked the pedestrians so that I could drive down the alley and made my escape. It turns out that the train station was just two streets over. I probably met Louise and my buddy, made our connection and got out of the city without being arrested.

To think, if it weren't for the stranger in the black coat on the bike, the dream might have ended much differently. 

1 comment:

  1. It's funny how dreams all make sense until you wakeup, then you have a good laugh and move on. B