24 May 2007
I'm marking online essays, but I need to stop my brain for a bit...so I'm gonna take a break and talk to you lovely people.
Fine thanks. Thanks for asking.
So, I've been a little unfair. All the people that talk to me via words rather than a computer, have heard some new Darwin stories. I think it's about time that I share them with all you face-to-face-impaired people (note: I am not suggested that your face is impaired....merely, how you use it!)
Darwin airport...the place where I finished my holiday, but ironically, it is also the place where we will start the blog. (sing it with me people, "it's like rai-ai-ain on your weddiiiing day).
It was a dark and stormy night. Ok, I'm lying. It was dark, it was night, but it was 43534543 degrees and humid as hell. So humid in fact, that I thought about bottling the air, and bringing it down to water my garden.
Anyway, it was 1 am, and I was flying back to melbourne on the 2.30 flight. Queueing in the queue (are there too many letters there, or is it just me?) I could see the desk hostesses watching me. "That's cos they're jealous of my beauty" I thought, so paid no heed.
I got to the front of the line, and sidled up to a desk, where the "man" (maybe a 12 year old boy actually) looked me up and down, and asked, "where is your carer?". "Pardon" I replied. To which he stated......
"we have a policy that completes can't travel without their carer, so unless you get your carer, i can't let you on the plane"
After ascertaining that "completes" means somebody who is unable to weight bear through their legs (as in "complete lower limb paralysis"), I thought about it for a moment......and then......well, you can imagine.
I may have used phrases such as "labelling people", "policies that would be at home in 1952", "contribute to society", "when did you get your occupational therapy degree which allowed you to assess my occupational performance", "human rights commission" and "what the fuck". In short, I think I may have channelled Mr Blythe.
Let's just say that the young fella will never say that again.
And, as a result, I was allowed to fly out of Darwin that night...despite my neglect in forgetting to hire a carer. (NB. applications are open for this position. Please see me for the job description, but essentially you have to pay your own way, buy me drinks, listen to my witty repartee, and pretend that it continues to be witty as the bevvies go on, and then pour me into the taxi to go home. No takers thusfar).
After my little implosion, in order to calm down, I decided to do a spot of shopping....at Darwin airport....at 1.30am. Not a lot of choice, surprisingly.
Purchasing lipgloss at a makeup shop, the woman (also a 12 year old) said, "can I ask you something personal?". Before I could say, "it's lipgloss. I only use it for my lips!! Honest!! Well, except for that one time, but I didn't know it was glittery!" She said, "if you worked 3 hours a week, and your boyfriend was unemployed, and he asked you to quit so he could spend more time with you, would you?".
I really wanted to say, "tell your boyfriend he's a tool, and maybe he should get a life...and for that matter, maybe you should too" (See, i was still a little feisty from my previous encounter at the counter). What I actually said was, "nah, I don't reckon. But i'm a random stranger, so make up your own mind".At that point, she called the boyfriend and said, "there's a lady here that says I should keep my job, so "get a life " and i don't want to see you anymore".
Oops. There goes any chance i had at marriage counselling.
After hiding in the bookshop for the next 30 minutes (I was scared the boyfriend would show up!), i hopped on the plane and slept all the way to Melbourne.
When I arrived home, my luggage was there....but my wheelchair was missing. Karma, I thought. Bloody, bloody Karma.
Nah, it turned up. But remind me never to visit Darwin airport again!