Mateship

I have been reading a book that my friend, Ruth gave me on moving to Sydney as an expat. In the introduction, it describes how Australia's history and culture has influenced society. The book emphasizes the importance of 'mateship'...looking out for your buddies, neighbors, etc. It is borne of the combination of the inhospitable land and the convict origins.

As I read about this, I remembered my first day in Sydney, and had to smile....

I had it all planned...

I checked 3 pieces of luggage...a suitcase with alot of clothing, a duffel with a blow up bed and bedding, and a bike bag with my bike and accessories....

I also had arranged for delivery of a fridge and washer to the apartment that morning.

God, I felt smart....UNTIL two minor things got in the way

• My flight was delayed out of LAX. Would I make it in time for the delivery?
• My 'budget 'bike carrier had wheels, yes. But they did not turn!

So, arriving a couple of hours late, I went to the oversized luggage area to claim my stuff. the wait was quite long. I got a cart and thought this would be a piece of cake.

After waiting way too long for my luggage, I realized that my appliance delivery was in danger of arriving without me. I called the appliance company. The delivery guys were at my door--could we reschedule? NO! I needed a fridge today.

Desperate for someone to receive the delivery, I tried to call my rental agent, but the number didn't work. I tried my landlord, same thing. Apparently, I did not have the knack of dialing Aussie numbers. Panicked, I called the appliance company back (why I could reach them, I don't know). Can you please call this number (my landlord) for me and see if he can meet you? Of course we can.

Meanwhile, all my luggage shows up. My cart suddenly seems hopelessly inadequate. I pile all the bags except the bike on. I go three feet. The cart goes one way, the bike the other. Neither is going in the direction I am looking to go. I pile the bike on the top of the cart. NOW I figured it out.

That is, until the entire pile topples over--on me. We all tumble simultaneously! A lovely man who works at the airport comes to the rescue! He takes my cart, my wayward bike, and me and escorts me through the customs line and out to the curb. He won't accept a tip!

I arrive at my apartment with the fridge connected and cold. The washer hooked up and ready to go! Thanks to the appliance dispatcher, my landlord was there to let them in. My taxi driver schlepps my stuff upstairs.

I sleep well on my blow up bed and crack open a cold diet coke the next morning.

MATESHIP. It works! If you don't think so, write this story, but set it in NY.