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What is the most bizarre thing that's ever happened to you?

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Some say that 'truth is stranger than fiction'.

This was true for me years ago before I got the truth - on one night in particular.

That was the night I fell asleep in the back seat of a friends car and while I was asleep the car got broken into and stolen with the thieves not knowing I was in the back...

That was just one of a bizarre series of events that took place over the course of several months in my life back in the 80's.

I wrote a short story about it a couple of years ago and I've often thought it would make an interesting movie script, but there was nothing fictitious about it.

Can anyone tell me if it's possible to attach files to these threads. I have it saved as an e-book so it can be read on an iPad in iBooks. It's about 3000 words. Is that too long to post on here?

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You can attach some "recognized" file types to your post, but I'm not sure if e-book files are one of them. I think your best course is to upload it to a free file storage site like "Dropbox" or "Box.net" and post the download link they provide.

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Dave that is so cool. I'd love to read your story!

Bizarre stuff? I have this knack for 'almost dying'. I seem to be a statistical anomaly. First, I'm one of the rare women who get pregnant while on the birth control. I'm also one of the rare women who gets blood clots from them. I ended up in hospital with a blood clot throughout my entire right leg. The clot let loose and went through my lungs (pulmonary embolism) apparently only 30% of people survive them. Incidentally, I self diagnosed and went to my physician.....he told me to WALK to the hospital. The nurses almost had a coronary when I told them why I was there.

I was also having mini strokes (flashing lights like a camera bulb) but I suffered no other ill effects from all that.

I'm one of the few to drop out of high school, but then return to school and get a degree. I'm also part of 10% of my province which has physics 30 on their high school diploma.

I'm also one of the few who has been hit by a car doing 50 km/hr (by a driving instructor of all things LOL) get thrown several feet into the air and then get up afterwards and walk away uninjured (well a mild concussion, and a bruised ankle). I got up after being hit, and I felt so sorry for his wife....the look on her face was one of sheer terror. I had nearly come through her side of the windshield.

Other bizarre things, I seem to have this knack for being in the right place at the right time. I stopped at 10:30 p.m. at night to rescue a young girl who was higher than a kite in the middle of one of our busy freeways. It had just started to snow and she was wearing shorts. I coaxed her off the freeway and then drove her somewhere safe. I had been visiting my cousin, and I decided to stay just a few minutes longer.

I also stopped on another of our freeways (Capilano/Wayne Gretzky Drive) because there was a young girl walking. Something just told me something was off. I started talking to her, she had a fight with her Mom, and she was walking to Leduc. She had already walked about 25 km, and was walking about another 50 km. I convinced her to call her Mom, and the Mom had thought she was in her bedroom. They had just moved here from Quebec, and the girl thought Leduc was close by. The Mom was so thankful. She said that she didn't think her Mom would forgive her for something, and I told her that wasn't the case and that she shouldn't be running away from issues but face them head on. Talk to her Mom, even if it's difficult. My own children were in the car during both incidents.

I got the market cornered on bizarre.

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I tried a few times to upload the file (first in e-pub format then as a pdf) but kept getting a 403 error.

So maybe I should just post it here directly... it's called:

Brian's New Car

(The names have been changed — I substituted my name for "Doug")

“Hey Guys, I’d like you to meet Brian. He’s our new Guillotine operator.

After the boss introduced the new guy it took us all a bit of getting used to. He wasn’t like any of us – he was different. He had a real attitude problem. He was agressive, outspoken and ‘in your face’ if you ever challenged his point of view.

We were a team of pretty easy going guys – printers mostly, except me. I was the graphic designer. I worked in a completely different department. Somehow I was kinda glad I didn’t have to work along side him like the others in the factory. The only time I saw him was on smoko breaks and at lunch time. By then the other guys had had enough of him and wanted a break and I was the only one left for him to talk to.

My mother always told me I should give people the benefit of the doubt. “Treat people as you’d want to be treated” she would always say. That was pretty hard in this case but I did my best. Perhaps that’s why he liked talking to me. In fact during my breaks I could never get rid of him.

One day, when smoko time came I decided to get out of the lunch room for a change. I decided to walk to the nearest shops. If I was quick enough I could get out of the factory before the factory workers got to the lunch room. I was out of the factory and half way up the drive way when I heard behind me...

“Hey Doug! Where are you going?” It was Brian.

“Just gonna get some lunch” I shouted back.

“Wait up!” he shouted out angrily. “I’ll come with ya.”

I was beginning to wonder whether he’d escaped from jail or something. From what I knew so far, he didn’t seem to have any friends or much of a life for that matter. He was living in a converted garage on his Dad’s property which was within walking distance of the factory. Just as well ‘cause he had no car. His clothes were pretty shoddy. His hair was always a mess. He was kinda ginger haired with a few freckles and a tatoo on one of his forearms.

But it was his aggresive way of speaking that rubbed people up the wrong way. He must’ve had a few hard knocks growing up — his parents were divorced. I kinda felt sorry for him. But I tried not to ask too many personal questions. I was trying to keep him at arms length. He was just a workmate after all.

Everyone looked forward to the weekends. Brian wanted to know what everyone was doing but the guys were dismissive. They were going home to their families, their girlfriends or getting out of town for the weekend or perhaps just doing chores around the house. These were all excuses of course because they knew that he was angling for an invitation somewhere.

“Haven’t you got a girlfriend or something?” asked one of the guys.

“Nah, she dumped me” he answered bluntly. “I gave her a hiding” he explained. “She was pissing me off”. We all looked at each other sideways, raising our eyebrows with awkward expressions.

“I talk to her on the phone sometimes” he continued, trying to justify himself.

He seemed to revel in his ‘Tough Guy’ image, but it wasn’t winning him any friends.

One day Brian asked me if I could give him a ride to the shopping centre on my way home. I wasn’t comfortable with his familiarity with me but I couldn’t think of any reason to say no. So reluctantly I agreed to drop him off. He needed a break. It seemed it was up to me to cut him some slack.

At least he had made an effort to be civil. He must’ve realised he needed to be if he was going to get anywhere in this new life he was trying to build for himself.

At the time I was doing a bit of after hours design work for another company whose factory was down by the shopping centre, and I had to call in there on the way. I suggested that Brian wait in the car while I went in to see this guy. I’d only be a couple of minutes.

But this was not Brian’s style. He wasn’t going to sit and wait like someone’s dog. He came right along as if he was my new found friend, even introducing himself to my client as such. Brian couldn’t take a hint, and I didn’t have the heart, or the courage to say otherwise.

After that he started coming up with excuses to go with me wherever I went. He didn’t have a car of his own so he needed help getting from A to B. He reckoned he was saving up for a car of his own. In the mean time he was steadily muscling his way into my life and there didn’t seem to be much I could do about it.

It wasn’t long before he learned where I lived and he started inviting himself over. He had the same abrasive effect on people wherever he went, including my flatmate Mike. Mike was a nice guy and we got on well but he wasn’t happy with Brian coming around to the flat. We realised that if Brian wanted to socialise with us it would have to be in a public place away from the flat. Neither of us wanted him around.

One Thursday night he turned up down at the pub where Mike and I usually met up with a bunch of other mates. It wasn’t long before his abrasive manner started irritating some of the guys who were there. Next thing we know he’s involved in a punch up with one of Mike’s mates at the other end of the bar. What a scene!


One night on the way home from the pub I got stopped by the police. After failing a breath test I was arrested, tested and summoned to court where I lost my license to drive for 6 months.

My new circumstances meant I could no longer take Brian along with me anywhere. In the mean time Brian was slowly getting some money together to buy his own car. Turns out he had a mate on the other side of Auckland somewhere who had an old Mark II Cortina that he’d agreed to sell for 1500 bucks.

In the days and weeks leading up to Brian’s purchasing the car, that’s all we heard about at work.

“Not long now, eh Brian?” everyone would say with relief. “You won’t know yourself once you’ve got a car. You’ll be completely mobile and independant. That’ll be good won’t it?”

By the time he saved his money it seemed the tables had turned and now he was feeling sorry for me.

He didn’t need to though. While my social life had taken a big hit, I wasn’t sitting around feeling sorry for myself. I had started building up an ‘after hours’ Design business. I was saving a fortune on going out now and I was earning some good money too.

Finally the day arrived when Brian had the money for his car and he was in the mood to celebrate. He said “Let’s go out on the town. Come on Doug, I’ll shout the first round of drinks. I owe you at least that much for all the running around you did for me”. To be honest I was quite impressed that he actually had a generous side.


So here we were, going out on the town. Three of us driving along in Brian’s new car. Brian was in high spirits, as was his mate Richard who had just sold him the car for a cool 1500. I was in the back seat.

It was a long night and we’d been to sevaral pubs and clubs. I’d had about enough and I was ready to go home. But Brian and Richard were still having a good time and I didn’t want to spoil their fun. So I said “Hey guys, I’m feeling a bit tired. Why don’t I go and sleep in the car until you guys are finished.”

“OK” they said. “We’ll see you back at the car. You don’t need any particular key to get in. Just use your house key and jiggle it round a bit. Don’t worry, the door will open no problem”.

With that, I set off back to the car. Sure enough the door opened with any old key. I used the key from my car’s petrol cap which was still on my key ring. I laid down on the back seat and went to sleep.

The next thing I knew, the car was mobile again and we were driving down the road. I had no idea what time it was but when I sat up I noticed there were now three people sitting in the front seat. The old MarkII Cortina had a bench seat with a column change gear shift — great for cruising with chicks.

No sooner had I sat up, when all three people sitting in the front seat turned around in unison crying out “Who are you?”

I replied “Who are YOU?”

“Is this your car?” the driver asked in a surprised tone.

“No, it’s my mates car.” I replied.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble” they said “we’re just borrowing it. We’ll take it up to Symonds street, then you can have it back.”

“OK” I said “I don’t want any trouble either. Take it to Symonds Street if you like. Just leave the engine running when you get out cause I haven’t got a key.”

When we got to Symonds street they beat a hasty exit from the car and scurried off. It wasn’t ‘til I jumped into the drivers seat that I suddenly realised what a precarious situation I was in. Not only was I was intoxicated, I was a disqualified driver. If I got caught by the cops I’d be in a heap of trouble. So I had to be especially careful, obeying all the road rules and not attracting any undue attention to myself. How hard could it be?

So I did a U-turn and started heading back to where I was before, which was about 2 kilometres across the busiest part of town. I made my way onto K-road, then Queen street which was downhill all the way. I came to a stop at traffic lights by the town hall and to my horror, the car suddenly stalled. It just konked out.

What would I do now? I had no key for the ignition. I had no idea how those 3 theives started it in the first place. I decided I’d have to jump start it. There was a slight downhill grade, so when the light went green I started slowly rolling forward, but with a queue of cars behind me. I just hoped they would all be patient and not start honking their horns for fear of drawing attention to my situation.

I was barely up to 5 kms/hr before I dropped the clutch. The car stopped dead. I wasn’t going fast enough to turn the engine over. So I had to start again. This time I got up to 10km/hr before dropping the clutch. The same thing happened. I realised I’d need to be going at least 15k before I’d be going fast enough to turn the engine over. I tried a third time. Meanwhile traffic was building up behind me on Auckland’s busiest street. This time it sparked into life, but by then I was only about 20 metres from the next set of traffic lights which just happened to be red by the time I got there.

I was determined to make sure the car didn’t stall again so I kept revving the engine. I decided to get off busy Queen street and take a less travelled route. When the lights turned green I took a left up Wellesley street. I had to stop for a pedestrian crossing partway up the hill. The car stalled again. This time I wound down the window and waved the traffic past.

If I was going to jump start the car this time I’d have to do it in reverse as I was now facing uphill. I had to stop for a breath and think about it for a minute. I decided to try one of my keys. I used the same key as before and to my surprise, it worked! I headed off again back to where the car was originally parked.

In my panic stricken state I was unsure what to do next. I reasoned that I had 2 or 3 options:

I could go back to the carpark as if nothing had happened and go back to sleep or I could go back to the carpark, leave the car there and either go home or go looking for Brian and Richard and tell them what had happened (I last saw them in a nightclub downtown). Or I could drive downtown, then go looking for Bruce and Richard. What a dilemma. I was still feeling rather intoxicated which was making the decision all the more difficult.

I didn’t like the idea of leaving the car unattended knowing how insecure it was and going back to sleep in such an insecure car was just as unthinkable. I had no idea what time it was so I even wondered whether the guys may have come back to the car already only to discover that it was gone.

I decided to go with the third option. I was hesitant because it meant getting back onto Queen Street amongst all that Friday night traffic, but I was feeling more confident now that I had a key for the ignition.

So I made my way carefully down to where I’d last seen them. I stopped at a set of traffic lights behind another car when suddenly...


A car hit me from behind at speed, shunting me forward into the car in front. This was unbelievable!

I went to get out of the car but couldn’t open the door as the impact had jammed the door shut. I had to climb out through the window. The car was seriously damaged and a crowd was already beginning to gather around.

What would I do now? I was an unlicensed driver, intoxicated, and now involved in a crash in somebody elses car! I suddenly became very afraid. With all the commotion, the cops were sure to come and I’d be in big trouble. But I had to do the responsible thing for the sake of Brian’s new car. I dutifully set about making a note of the car reg. numbers and got the names and addresses of each of the drivers.

In the mean time a tow truck turned up, much to my relief. I said to the towie “Mate, get this car on the back of that truck, quick!” I needed to get out of there before the cops turned up.

So he got the car all hitched up and we took off. “Where to mate?” he asked. “Take me to the North Shore” I said.

All I could do now was go home. I’d had enough excitement for one night. When we got back to my place the tow truck driver said “that’ll be 120 bucks mate.”

I said “What? I haven’t got 120 bucks”

“Well, I’m going to have to keep your car then.” he said. “Here’s my business card. You can have your car back when you bring me the money.”

So off he drove into the night with Brian’s new car in tow. I went inside and went to bed. I still don’t know what time it was.

Next thing I knew, I was awakened by the sound of Brian’s angry voice and a banging on the door. My flatmate Mike let him in. He came bursting into my room. I sat up, my eyes were still adjusting to the light.

“Where’s my bloody car?” Brian demanded.

“Somebody stole it while I was sleeping in the back seat.” I said. “I rescued it from them and came looking for you, but then someone crashed into me. The tow truck brought me back but he took the car because I didn’t have enough money to pay for it.”

“What?” he screamed “You’re not making any sense. I’ll come back tomorrow when you’ve sobered up.”

Even as I was explaining it, I knew how unbelievable it must have sounded. If I was him I probably wouldn’t have believed me either. Anyway I had the names and addresses of the people who crashed into me. I could at least sleep easy knowing we had a way of sorting it all out.

The next day Brian came back, early in the morning with the same angry question.

“So where’s my bloody car Doug?!”

The explanation didn’t make anymore sense to him then, than it did the night before. I showed him the phone numbers and the information I’d taken down as well as the tow truck driver’s business card. But after spending hours on the phone it turned out that one of the other cars was stolen and both of the drivers gave false information leading to nothing but dead ends.

Brian’s car was a write off. Man, was he angry. He hadn’t even owned it for one day so it wasn’t insured or anything — and now it was all smashed up!

I felt bad for him, but it wasn’t my fault. A few weeks later I gave him 500 bucks towards another car, a third of what it cost him. That seemed fair to me, although Brian didn’t think so.

Not long after that I quit my job and started my own design business. I didn’t see Brian after that.

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