A good-ish number of years ago, when I was at Uni, some mates and I were in a car on Saturday night, travelling down Chapel Street to a party- as was our wont in those long-gone times.
Near the intersection with Dandenong Highway our car bumped – quite gently – into the rear of the car in front. Our driver got out to inspect the damage, as did the driver of the other car.
From there, things got weird.
The driver of the other car and for ease of narrative, lets call him “Insane Psycho Lunatic” or IPL for short, took exception to our mate’s explanation of the incident and knocked him to the ground.
“Right-o” we all thought, “spirit of Gallipoli and all that”, so out we go to come to our mate’s aid.
The drawback was that this bloke was an insane, psycho lunatic and we were arts students, the result being we were knocked around Chapel Street like nine-pins. I was punched to the ground, got up and was punched to the ground again.
I remember lying on the ground thinking “well, things aren’t going so well” when there was a shout of “oi” and a passer-by came to running to our aid and gave said IPL a through and much deserved walloping.
“Err, thanks mate” we said. “No worries” he said and drove off*.
The moral of this story escapes me, unless it’s “don’t get into fist fights with lunatics if you’re a weedy arts student**.”
*We managed to track him down and delivered a slab of beer in thanks the next day.
**I suppose having Alex*** with us might have come in useful.
***I mean, of course, the surly, punching-on Alex, not the fluffy, nice Alex we’ve all come to know and love.