So the past three days have been frustrating to say the least. 36 hours before I was due to leave for Sydney and some son-ova-bitch theiving bastard broke into my car, stealing my passport, laptop, mobile phone, cash and camara. Anyone who's been a victim of a crime like this knows, you go through a series of emotions. Firstly a trembling warmness spreads across your body, you heart rate revs up, the brain becomes detatched as it all feels like some sort of nightmare, you're convinced that you'll wake up and it'l all go away. Then as you look around the rational part of your mind starts to crawl its way back, you start to come out of the dream and into the reality of the situation, what to do, no phone, don't know anyone in this city, Fu*ck!!!!! your mind screams, give me that mutha fu*ker who destroyed my safe set of sensibilities. Right, this is where you must remain calm, breath, think, well at least the cars still there and you don't have to walk to the police station. Fill in the report as best you can, hands shaking slightly as the nerves try and maintain compostion. The police are no use, what I want right now is a swat team to go search every dodgy looking individual, to shake down every drug addled bum and generally spread fear to those individuals who accept this type of behaviour as acceptable. It won't happen, my stuffs gone and I wont see it again, thats what the police want to tell me but they don't. This doesn't become apparent to me until i've driven round and round the scene, each time losing a little more hope. Fu*k it, Fu*k you all, and this is where the rage wells up, hands on the wheel and I want to scream, I want to rip off the streering wheel, I want to find who did this and make them hurt.
Ok, I now have about 29 hours to sort out a replacement passport, report my phone stolen, speak to the British consulate, the American passport office, the Australian consulate, then United Airways and my travel insurance. I have to all that and drive 400miles, return the rental car and hopefully make my flight, I didn't get much sleep.
Where am I now? Well I made my flight, passed out, woke as the plane hit turbulence as thick as porridge, fell asleep again, then woke up in Sydney. Got onto the domestic flight to Adelaide and here I am amid 45c degree heat. I'm calmer, the emotions have receeded somewhat, I still get mad when I think about it, but it's not so raging. I would really like to say thanks to the British consulate in L.A, the lady at the desk of Dollar rental cars and M,D&A.
On to vintage................
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