Attack of the Street Signs

by Purple Wyrm on September 11, 2002

I’m not gonna watch much TV tonight. I’m sure everyone can figure out why. If I never see that footage again in my entire life, I’ll die a happy man. I can handle the towers on fire if I have to, I can hack the clouds of dust enveloping lower Manhattan – but the plane tearing into the building in that massive gout of flame, the towers imploding downwards – I just have to turn off the TV when that comes on. It makes me sick. And you just know they’re going to be playing that over and over and over again, just like they did last year.

Thankfully Channel 10 is doing the same, sane thing they did last year and running normal programing. Seinfeld at the moment (same as they went to last year), which could be seen to be in slightly poor taste. But at least it’s something apart from endless brooding on tragedy and classical dirges with George Dubya sound bytes over the top. Gah.

Anyway I forgot to mention something rather, well, not actually exciting, but about as exciting as my dull life ever gets, that happened to me last week. I was on the bus going back to Subiaco railway station after a hard day’s work at the office, sitting in the seat just behind the rear door because the one I like (other side, two seats up) was occupied. So, I’m sitting there calmly reading Resurrection Day by Brendan Dubois (excellent book by the way), and we’re pulling up to the station and there’s this huge WHACKK!! noise, and the window I’m leaning against shatters!

OK, the buses use safety glass so it didn’t actually shatter it just crazed all over and went opaque. But I was showered with tiny glass fragments (that managed to cut up my hand when I tried to dust them off a few minutes later). The driver had apparently managed to side swipe a “No Standing” sign. Various people yelped and gasped and stared at me, and then – after a stunned second or two of gazing at window – I satisfied them with a loud “Bloody Hell!”. Then the bus pulled up at the stop. So we all got out.

Bit of an anti-climax I know, but that’s what happened 😉

I suppose I could sue or something, but the miniscule cuts on my hand have healed up rather nicely, so there’s no point. Unless I wanted to claim emotional trauma or something, but hey, it takes more than a brush with a “No Standing” sign to traumatise the Wyrm! (spiders on the other hand will do it every time. Or those Lollypop Guild munchkins from the Wizard of Oz. They’re just creepy!).

Oh, I’d better put in a weeping madona update before I go. They actually let some scientists from one of the universities have a look at it and, sure enough, a mysterious “someone” had bored a hole in the head, filled it up with oil, then scraped away the varnish on the eyes. Told ya. Bet all those weeping supplicants they showed on the news feel like fools now.

Don’t worship statues people. Not even ones that weep. It’ll all end in tears 😉

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