Marshchild
12-13-2008, 09:33 AM
Something funny happened to me a few days ago. I'd gone on an outing to one of the national parks around here (Belair, to those of you familiar with the city of Adelaide), and since I figured the chances of me bumping into anyone else there were pretty remote (it's a big place, and pretty much deserted during the week), I decided to wear one of the more garish items of feminine finery from my wardrobe. Anyway, the item in question was a silver satin smock I'd had made a few years ago. Almost like a dress, it comes down to my knees, does up to the neck with large plastic buttons, and has a Peter Pan collar, as well as an appliqued red heart on the left breast. All in all, therefore, it's pretty outrageous, and something I usually only wear around the house, or to something like a rave, where it's not unusual to be dressed strangely.
Anyway, when going to the above park - a favourite haunt of mine - I almost invariably end up following a railway line that runs through the place, passing through various tunnels and cuttings as it does so. This time was no exception, and I was soon having a merry old time following my usual route through the park: sticking closely to the track, and occasionally even walking on it, while always keeping an eye and ear open for any sign of an approaching train. Rather disappointingly, though, there didn't seem to be any of the last things passing through the place that day, which I found odd given that I usually see at least a couple when I'm there. On occasion, I'd get my hopes up when I'd hear something in the distance that sounded like a train, but unfortunately, whatever I'd heard would invariably turn out to have been something else. As I was passing through a cutting, however, there finally came the unmistakable indication that something was coming along the tracks. The last things started vibrating, and the sound of something heavy travelling along them filled the air. To my alarm, I suddenly realized what a dangerous place I was in, the rocky sides of the cutting almost too steep to climb and very close to the track that passed between them. My alarm quickly giving way to sheer, heart-pounding terror, I started to run, my only thought to get out of the cutting before the train came. Thankfully, I soon found myself bursting out of the cutting...
...and emerging into the midst of a bunch of workmen working on the tracks (the vibrations and other noises I'd just heard had come from a truck they were using that had had train wheels fitted). Mortified, I smiled sheepishly at them, realizing what a sight I must be in my smock and wondering how much trouble I was going to be in for walking so close to the line. The foreman simply said, "You're all right", though, and allowed me to continue on my way. It didn't take me long to see the funny side of it all, and I figured that, if nothing else, I would have given all the workers something interesting to tell their family and friends that night! (I also got a bit of a buzz from imagining them all going, "What the [expletive] was that?" to one another once I'd gone!) I also lost all fear of being seen by anyone else the rest of the time I was there!
Anyway, when going to the above park - a favourite haunt of mine - I almost invariably end up following a railway line that runs through the place, passing through various tunnels and cuttings as it does so. This time was no exception, and I was soon having a merry old time following my usual route through the park: sticking closely to the track, and occasionally even walking on it, while always keeping an eye and ear open for any sign of an approaching train. Rather disappointingly, though, there didn't seem to be any of the last things passing through the place that day, which I found odd given that I usually see at least a couple when I'm there. On occasion, I'd get my hopes up when I'd hear something in the distance that sounded like a train, but unfortunately, whatever I'd heard would invariably turn out to have been something else. As I was passing through a cutting, however, there finally came the unmistakable indication that something was coming along the tracks. The last things started vibrating, and the sound of something heavy travelling along them filled the air. To my alarm, I suddenly realized what a dangerous place I was in, the rocky sides of the cutting almost too steep to climb and very close to the track that passed between them. My alarm quickly giving way to sheer, heart-pounding terror, I started to run, my only thought to get out of the cutting before the train came. Thankfully, I soon found myself bursting out of the cutting...
...and emerging into the midst of a bunch of workmen working on the tracks (the vibrations and other noises I'd just heard had come from a truck they were using that had had train wheels fitted). Mortified, I smiled sheepishly at them, realizing what a sight I must be in my smock and wondering how much trouble I was going to be in for walking so close to the line. The foreman simply said, "You're all right", though, and allowed me to continue on my way. It didn't take me long to see the funny side of it all, and I figured that, if nothing else, I would have given all the workers something interesting to tell their family and friends that night! (I also got a bit of a buzz from imagining them all going, "What the [expletive] was that?" to one another once I'd gone!) I also lost all fear of being seen by anyone else the rest of the time I was there!