Disjointed forklift-hit observations


A forklift!

Have you ever walked down a street on a particular day of the week — any of them will do — and suddenly realised that you should be walking alongside the street not down it? Really, nobody should be walking down a street, unless its one of those pedestrian ones that are closed off to traffic, otherwise a car might come out of nowhere and clip you on a part of your body that had previously never been hit by a vechile before. Unless you've walked down a street before, which you may or may not have done.

As you may have noticed in the previous paragraph, I can't spell vechile. According to my spell checker here its actually spelt vehcile, wait, vehicle. Every single time I try and write that word I know there has to be an h and a c in there somewhere, but I can never remember where, and I always end up spelling it as if the word is pronounced with a German ch sound. Which is ridiculous because the word vehcile isn't pronounced that way. Argh I spelt it wrong again!

I hope you’re talking notes.

Taking notes, I hope you're taking notes. Wasn't that the name of a movie starring Angelique Kidjo? No, wait, I meant Angelina Jolie. Angelique Kidjo is one of my favourite singers, last time I checked Angelique Kidjo couldn't sing. Wait, I mean Angelina Jolie couldn't sing. Why am I having so much trouble remembering which words and names I'm talking about?

See I was walking alongside the street this afternoon (see, I didn't say down the street) when out of nowhere… wait hold on, stop right there. Nothing can come out of nowhere, unless nowhere is subspace or the dawn of existence. Presumably this thing didn't appear out of nowhere, it would have had to come from somewhere.

Grilled cheese sandwiches

Sheesh, will you stop interrupting me and let me finish?

No, sheesh isn’t even a word. Sheesh.

So I was walking alongside the street this afternoon (see, I didn't say down the street) when out of… somewhere a… argh now I can't remember what it was! It was something to do with forklifts… a forklift, that's it. So this forklift comes out of nowhere and jabs me in the leg as it's going past.

Rochor and surrounds in The Singapore

Now get this, this… forklift, was travelling down Rochor Road, a busy Singapore thoroughfare for both pedestrians and traffic (do pedestrians count as traffic?) when I realised that thoroughfare sounds like a dog racing track. No, that's not what I was going to discuss. So this gosh darn forklift, out of nowhere, wait, somewhere is driving inexplicably down a pedestrian footpath — as opposed to one of those vechile footpaths… damn it now I've misspelled vechile again!

So there you have it, this post wrapped itself around back to the beginning and to the central theme and all that very nicely don't you think? One would think I should get a literary award for literary genius, or at the very least an award for outstanding writing or literary genius. I could give my acceptance speech and talk about the time I was injured by a forklift driving down a footpath behind me. Couldn't be any worse than half the speeches people give, statistically speaking.

My leg hurts.

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Ruben Schade is a technical writer and infrastructure architect in Sydney, Australia who refers to himself in the third person. Hi!

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