Saturday 13 January 2007

Boozy Cat

12 January – Not setting my alarm caused a late wakeup and although I could have made it in to town on time the knowledge of the previous day’s quietetude made me decide that it was more important to have a decent breakfast (even if it was bolted down so fast that I barely tasted it) than to get to the CBD by 0800.  Of course, the fact that I wasn’t in town meant a little bunch of expresses were summoned from Hermes Hell but nothing was late and it went back to its snail’s pace by half 9.  Twas a slow day but better than the previous one – barely covered two pages but think I had enough high paying trips (including a couple of rescue jobs that required a bit of a long haul ride) but because Toll’s policy of calculating commission on a weekly basis rather than daily this meant that it was for nowt financial reward beyond the half decent retainer. However, despite there not being any immediate financial reward there is the satisfaction of actually doing difficult work and cementing my reputation as a can-do team orientated kind of guy.  The kind of guy you should take care of in the good times and the bad.  Maybe.
After work Mr Two Fat Ladies, mindful of his imminent departure and birthday, had his planned Boozy Cat.  Basically, a combined bike race and drinking game designed to sort out the drinkers from the tetotallers.  Started by gulping down a bottle of beer before following a series of six different checkpoints where one as required to take a shot of a different kind of alcohol.  Due to the inherent sketchiness of the design I originally just planned to participate but not race – I even volunteered to take it slow so that I could guide Olly (a very enthusiastic German tourist – enthusiastic about everything) but after the second checkpoint the adrenalin had kicked in and I had a vague idea that I could win the race and I lost him when I headed into Millers Point.  Couldn’t find the fourth point but spotted a phalanx of couriers led by Andreas heading down King St so decided just to follow them.  However, our fearless leader led us straight to the finish line in a very hard and fast ride through a heavily trafficked Newtown – mulled a bit about forfeiting but was determined not to be disqualified so rallied a few of them to head to the last two checkpoints – despite riding extremely hard and fast through Marrickville and St Peters, two inner west suburbs about which I had absolutely no knowledge, by the time I finally found them (after getting lost in a shopping mall and forfeiting my jersey because I just didn’t want any more alcomohol) I ended up coming 9th.  The last finisher, not a noble position but considering that half the field didn’t even finish it wasn’t so terrible.  Won, very unexpectedly, by Dottie – certainly not the fastest and fittest courier in the fleet, in fact, by appearances he’s one of the paunchiest couriers in the fleet, but, a very good rider and followed the very sensible strategy of following the right courier (Shifty) for the entire way – even going so far as to rescue Shifty’s bike when it was stuck, and then, on the home stretch pipped him at the post.  Some would say a merciless strategy but successful and that’s all that matters in a race like this.   Just hope he doesn’t stretch the champion’s jersey too much before it takes it rightful place on my undernourished frame.  And, only one casualty in the race, which was far less than I expected) - Brian, the hapless South African, one of the best riders I know but just terrible with crashes, went straight into a taxi after (apparently) his line was crossed by one of the even riskier riders in Sydney (one with a terrible reputation for causing trouble) - despite apparently writing off his bike the crashee was okay after the accident and managed to walk away but he’ll be a sorry sight on Monday I expect.    New houseguest over the weekend – one of the flatmate’s friends who inadvertantly reminded the flatmate of some of the history shared -

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