PEAK HOUR FLAT PART I

Tuesday 28^th of August 2012: 4.25pm – Tullamarine Freeway, near the Dynon Road onramp

‘Get a fucken move on, clown!’ I scream at the fool in front of me that insists on merging onto a fucken freeway doing 80 kmph, when every other fucker is travelling at 100kmph. 

Jesus mate; you’re gonna cause an accident if you don’t get a move on…

After driving like a rally driver to avoid a collision with this fucken idiot (who turned out to be an old man in a fucken cap), I successfully blend into the stream of flowing metal and rubber, and settle myself in for the flow to the airport.

Tuesday 28^th of August 2012: 4.31pm – Tullamarine Freeway, just past Pascoe Vale Road

What the fuck is that noise? It sounds like a truck? Where is it? I look in the rear-view and side mirrors, but can’t see a truck.  I look over my shoulders; no truck.  I turn off the radio, and can hear a loud rumbling sound.  What the fuck is that?

The steering’s fine… I’m near the airport… maybe it’s flying over me? 

The rumbling sound dies down a little, and I continue along the freeway.  I figure if I had a flat or something, that someone going past would say something… surely…

Fuck!  I grab the steering wheel as I feel the car lurch to the right, and then I can hear it very clearly; the distinct slap slap slap of a flat tyre.  My heart immediately starts hammering in my chest!

Holy shit! I’m in the third lane of the fucken freeway! It’s peak hour! I flick on my hazard lights, and start slowing down… gotta get over to the emergency lane; now!

This can’t be happening…I push my way through the reluctant traffic, and squeeze myself into the skinniest emergency lane I’ve ever fucken seen.  I kill the engine and force my big arse out through the tiny gap between the car and the concrete crash rail to see which tyre it is.

Back right tyre; flat as a tack.

Oh Christ… I groan as I melt back into the car.  What the fuck happened?  I must have picked up a nail or something… great…

I sigh heavily as the peak hour traffic absolutely hammers past me, causing my car to rock.  I look in the rear-view mirror at the traffic bearing down on me, and realise that I seriously have no room to move here.  I must be right on the white line.  How the fuck does a car any bigger than my little hatchback deal with this shit?  There is seriously no room!  How am I going to change the tyre?

Suddenly, this emergency lane doesn’t feel so safe.

What the fuck do I do now?

Tuesday 28^th August 2012: 4.33pm – Tullamarine Freeway, Bulla Road exit

‘Optus directories, which suburb are you after please?’ a heavily accented voice barks.

‘I’m actually after the RACV; I don’t know what suburb it’s in.’ I sigh, cursing my stupidity at not having their number in my phone.  I fucken hate calling the idiots at Optus Directories. Incompetent doesn’t even begin to cover it.

‘Just one moment please…’ he says, and I can hear a keyboard clicking.  ‘Roadside assistance or general enquiries?’

‘Roadside assistance, please.’

‘Would you like the number sent to your phone?’

‘Yes please.  Don’t connect me.’ I’m not paying the four billion dollars you like to charge for the call to be connected.  People don’t realise that even though the call to directories is free, they fucken charge you extra for the connected call.

‘No problem, Madam.  The number is on it’s way to your phone.  Have a nice day.’ and the line goes dead.  Fucken lovely!  Don’t hang on to see if the number comes through, you fucker!

Tuesday 28^th August 2012: 4.35pm – Tullamarine Freeway, Bulla Road exit

‘Optus directories, which suburb are you after please?’ a heavily accented voice barks.  I reckon I’ve got the same person.

‘I just rang before for the number for the RACV, but I haven’t received the text from you.’

‘Oh!’ he says.  ‘You just called a few minutes ago?’

‘Yep.’ Hurry the fuck up and send me the number again.

‘I’ll text you the number again-‘ I can hear him clicking away.  ‘and if you wait a minute, it should come through.’

‘It’s normally instantaneous…’

‘We ask that you allow up to a minute.’

‘Well, I’ve nothing better to do.’

Tuesday 28^th August 2012: 4.37pm – Tullamarine Freeway, Bulla Road exit

‘Optus directories, which suburb are you after please?’ a different voice this time.

‘This is the third time I’ve called for the number to RACV roadside assistance, and I still haven’t received the texted number from you.  Can you please give me the number over the phone?’

‘Certainly… just one moment…’ I hear her clicking away, envisioning that she’s rolling her eyes and flipping the bird at her headset.  ‘I’ll find the number for you.’

I had found a scrap of paper and a pen in my bag, and impatiently wait. 

‘Won’t be much longer… just searching for the number…’ she says as the clock ticks away. 

How fucken hard is it to find a number?  What are you searching with? 

‘Won’t be much longer… still searching…’  Does it take longer to find these things from a call centre in India?  What the fuck is taking so long?

‘Still searching…’

‘What the hell is taking so long?’ my impatience get’s the best of me.  ‘It’s a phone number for Christ’s sake… it should take this long…’

‘I have a number here for RACV general enquiries,’ she says, ignoring my complaining. 

‘As I said; roadside assistance.’ I enunciate. 

‘Oh.  The number is 13 1111.’

‘Great.  Thanks ever so much.’ I hang up with a heavy sigh.  Fuck, that was harder than it needed to be.

I look in the rear-view, and momentarily watch the traffic.  That’s when I see it; a white Camry and he’s over the white lines!  Fuck mate! Open your eyes!

I’m gonna die! I’m gonna die!  How can he not see me?  I’m stationery and he’s going to hit me at 100 kmph?  This ain’t gonna be pretty! Relax! Don’t tense! Fewer bones will break if you’re relaxed!! These thoughts flashed through my head in the milliseconds it took for him to close the gap between us, and at the last second, he merges back into the lane.

I close my eyes and sit back in my seat as my car continues to rock to the passing traffic.  Fuck me!  My hand flutters to my chest in a vain attempt to calm my hammering heart. 

Someone please rescue me! I want Charlie…