Sunday, 21 Jan 2007

Well it was only a matter of time I guess. Driving in this city is a death wish at the best of times. I’m assuming it’s not a question of have you had an accident it’s one of how many seconds ago was your last. I got my first car crash out the way last night. Driving home from work I broke for a cat strolling across the road. Next thing I know I got a taxi ramming into my ass. If your in an accident over here and there’s damage to the car you have to call the police so they can issue you a certificate you'll need to get the car repairer. No certificate no repair. Here’s me asking the Taxi driver to call the police but he seems pretty adamant to do so. His got 4 passengers in his car. What a pain in the ass and to top it all off he could speak a whole of two words of English. Other taxi drivers start pulling up. Peak hour traffic. All for a freaking cat. I end up having to ring one of the Saudi H.R managers so he could speak with this taxi driver. All the while old mate (taxi drivers, taxi mate) is trying to get me to agreed to taking the car down to his workshop so he could sort it all out. I’ve got two poor photos of the scene in the photos section. This story goes on and on so I’ll point form the rest.
• Phone calls back and forth between my HR manager the taxi driver the police and the taxi driver’s taxi mate.
• HR manager sends out a possy of WorleyPetrocon Government Affairs guys to meet me.
• They role up, police also role up, all this shit goes down. I got no idea what’s doing
• I’ve only got an Australian Licence, which seems to be an issue.
• We all have to go down to the station (local circus / mad house).
• 7 people not including myself get into this crazy shit fight over what happened. There’s hands and pieces of paper flying round everwhere.
• The police guy starts yelling just after he was in fits of laugher. All the while I’m standing round looking like a right tit.
• Approximatly 15 phone calls between the Government Affairs possy and god only knows who.
• Three or four office storm-outs by each party involved (police, Worley possy, the Taxi driver and his mate)

Holy Shit.

After we were let go with the repair authority in hand I asked one of the possy what the hell was going down back there. All he said was the police were inquiring to how the accident happened. In which the taxi driver spoke of the cat. That’s what all the bastards were laughing at to start with i think. It may have just been quicker and easier to rid the streets of a shabby ass cat. I'll know next time.

All the nights crazy affairs were all sorted out by what must be one of the greatest eating experiences I’ve had over here more photos attached all of $10.