dave of our lives

So where was I going? Ah yes, stories. I’ve been listening and hoping to remember, but unfortunately, I’ve been forgetting them. So I’ve started writing notes on my mobile to remind me. So watch out. Tell me a story and it’ll end up on here. I might change the names around, or i might not. I might embellish. Or I might not. (Do you LOVE how I’m keeping you guessing all the time??)

So, back to witches hats.

This story is set back in the early naughties, when Tsubi was Tsubi (not Ksubi), Kobe was THE man (not LeBron), the world had no idea what the heck a GFC was (I’m sorry, I hate that acronym but had to use it to make that point - hypocrit?) and dave and I were still bright eyed and bushy tailed youngsters (not blood shot eyed).

A friend of mine, let’s call him Jack, was on a GAP exchange year in the sunny United Kingdom. He was placed into an exclusive private school where not playing polo was frowned upon and, frankly, the title “viscount” was below par. Jack was supposed to be a model of good behaviour. Imagine the young gentlemen growing up around him!

One weekend Jack was granted permission from Headmaster Steve Upperlip to borrow the school Mercedes for a trip into town and to see some sights. Sorry, did I mention this was a country private school? After all, where would the polo horses prance and play in their down time? Piccadilly? I think not.

So Jack and a fellow GAP member packed their burberry bags and hopped into the C Class, lowering themselves gently into those heated leather seats (it was a cold winter’s morning). Jack turns the key, performs a few other necessary functions and the car gets rolling with Headmaster Upperlip offering advice on safety as the car safely left the grounds.

Now of course, when 2 boys get into a car that’s not theirs, the first thought is: drive like you don’t own it. We all know the feeling.

So the little old C Class was put through its paces* on the country road. * The C Class struggles to make driving a fun experience. As jack & Co approached town, there were witches hats set up in the middle of the road for a few hundred meters. There weren’t any other cars to be seen.

“Why hello”, said Jack. “Well if this wasn’t an obstacle course meant to test the handling of this Mercedes.”

So, intelligent reader, you guessed it. Jack started weaving in and out of the witches hats. He proved to be very good at this game as he was nearing the end and he had a clean sheet.

But.

“What if we just run over a few witches hats?”

GREAT idea. So three witches hats from the end, Jack plows into a witches hat.

BOOM. The car jolts and a horrible crunching noise is heard as the car travels over something hard.

I’ll leave it to you to imagine Jack’s reaction. I hope you laugh as hard as I did when I heard the story.

So it turns out the witches hat was filled with concrete. Those council workers sure know how to play a gag on someone! The best part though, was that when Jack & Co got out of the car to inspect the damage (not pretty) they decided to see if all the witches hats had concrete filler and the answer, intelligent reader, was “no”. The last 2 were plastic only. The previous 20 or so were plastic only.

Ah Jack. Who can blame you for wanting to perform acts of self harm after that incident!?

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