Last night I was commissioned by the family to pick up a sibling brother. At midnight. From a deserted train station.
I like to consider myself pretty creepless. I love holding snakes, find spiders fascinating and in my younger days, faced a wild angry goanna when it tried to steal mum’s hen eggs. Mum was too scared to go near it. So she sent her fifteen-year-old daughter to round it up.
A word on goannas. Those things have claws to rival a tigar’s and it’s said they’ll run up a person if they can’t find a tree to hide in.
How hard do you reckon a goanna has to grip something to climb it?
Yeah, I’d give that one a miss too.
And that was before the white van with the creepy looking man pulled up behind me.
A white van is almost as bad as a black one. And his stereo was playing eerie old country music.
Officially started having heart palpitations.
A deserted platform wasn’t going to stop me getting abducted, but a photo of my feet at Car D would surely help a Missing Persons investigator.
I collected my kid brother, hurried past creepy white van guy and I made it home in one human piece.
In the end, I didn’t need to use those angry goanna-catching skills of mine.
Darn it. I’ve been perfecting them too.