|
When I lived in Cairns I used to ride my pushbike into town for a night on the turps. Riding it home was always difficult, but ride it home I would.
I always found changing gears the hardest whilst pissed as well as forgetting to tuck in the trouser leg near the chain. Many was the next morning I would awake to find myself bruised and scratched from having fallen from the bike.
One such night saw me rather pickled and attempting to cycle home along a four lane road. I can't recall the name of the road but it connected Cairns to the freeway and was thus an extremely busy thoroughfare. Oblivious to all around me I cycled and sang (as is my wont when drunk) and proceeded to cross two lanes of the road and crash up onto the median strip. This will do for the night I decided and off to beddy byes I went. I don't know how long I lay there but I was awoken by two fellows who asked me if I was alright. I can't recall my response but they picked me up and placed myself and my pushbike in their car and drove me home. I remember them waking me and then nothing till the next morning, Brian, my housemate told me they had knocked on the door and woken him and the three of them put me to bed and placed my bike downstairs.
Whilst enduring an horrendous hangover I discovered my wallet missing, I scoured the house and could not find it, and as I was preparing to curse my saviours the phone rang and the manager of one of the pubs I had been too told me that he had my wallet. Someone had handed it in. With the money still in it!
I would like to just say that after this incident I never drank and rode again. But that would be an outright lie.
|
posted by Trojan @ 2/20/2005 12:41:00 AM
|
