An old acquaintance operates a successful Paddington art gallery and has a reputation for fostering budding artists who go on to greater heights. Don't ask me who they are, it's not really my world.
Last night some passengers requested his gallery. A hot young South American artist was exhibiting and the gallery was packed and spilling onto the pavement where 'ol mate had thoughtfully installed a bar. Champion.
Bugger it, I thought, I'll stop and say hello, it's been a couple of years, give him a real surprise! With parking space at a premium I gingerly inched into the corner spot, careful not to brush any of the noisy, well-oiled throng of art lovers bordering the gutter...
Then came the alarming sound of screeching metal on metal. It was a friggin' unseen bicycle chained to a pole, on the road side. All hell broke lose. The punters started yelling as one, some even screaming in protest, others banging on the rear of the cab.
A middle-aged women charged to the door and yanked it open yelling incoherently, all raging indignation. “Relax,” I told her, “I ain't going nowhere.” She slammed the door shut. Sheesh. Had I hit a baby or something?
I started estimating how much I was willing to be extorted by some righteous, aggrieved bicycle owner, to find only the derailer was damaged, bent off track after being squeezed against the pole.
Fortunately the owner was a sheepish young South American dude and really relaxed, eh. He shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head, not knowing what to say or do. I told him to turn the bike over.
Yet the door-slammer wouldn't let it go and seized the opportunity to perform in front of the milling crowd. “It's the derailer,” she yelled at me, waving her arms theatrically whilst backing away defensively. Surely she didn't think I was going to hit her?
She continued, “I know what I'm talking about. I'm a bike owner, too!” Ha, a clear connection to the damaged derailer. She, too, was a victim. After responding that I owned two bikes and knew how to fix them, I grabbed a set of pliers from the cab and bent the item back into place.
A young woman wandered over and loudly remarked how 'cab drivers are such bad drivers'. I stood up from the bike. “Lady, please..,” I said, and she back-pedalled furiously, earnestly insisting she wasn't referring to me. I turned back to the bike. Others returned to the party.
Some middle-aged blokes, clearly enjoying the free grog, thought it was all hilarious. “Wow, a cab driver who also fixes bikes! That's amazing.” This was some welcome relief and I joined them in recalling the famous Monty Python skit, Bicycle Repairman...
I've never seen this, just loved it!
But Bicycle Repair Man of Sydney, did you get to say hello to your old friend?
Posted by: Pennie | June 21, 2012 at 08:29 AM
Mai he vist això, ens va encantar!
Gràcies per compartir aquesta informació és útil per me.Hope més articles serà publicada!
Posted by: converse all star pas cher | June 21, 2012 at 05:59 PM
So how is ya ol' mate.... we're all hanging here Adrian :-)
Posted by: Ian | June 21, 2012 at 07:31 PM
Unfortunately the bike drama used up enough time as I had the dude test ride it and made sure he was happy. It was a busy time of night so I got back to work. A pity cause the gallery is generally closed when I pass by.
Posted by: adrian | June 21, 2012 at 11:43 PM
Is it soaring Bus Driver ? Is it a flying Hire car driver ?
No, its Supercabbie........
Skilled in fixing bikes, changing tyres, keeping awake after 13 hours of driving,chasing runners, solving other peoples personal problems, familiar with every shortcut available including inner City dunny lanes, helping the lame, advising the insane, shall we go on ?
No,no need, Supercabbie is there when you need him,the only thing that irritates our good fellow are pissed female "Art Lovers" that couldn't tell a real cabbie from a Picasso, so involved in their own wanky world that they couldn't find their own arse if you asked them to.
Posted by: Rainer the cabbie | June 22, 2012 at 01:58 AM