Frankston and Ghani

Last Tuesday we took Gord's Skoda to the dealer in Frankston. I had booked it in the previous week, having to wait till Tuesday as apparently they are busy and have no vacancies for days ahead. They said the earlier we get it there the better chance there would be that it would be finished that day as it would give them more time to source what part they may need. We left a little after 6am and were waiting at the gate 5 minutes before the place opened at 7.30.

By this time we knew what the problem was. A broken plastic elbow at the base of the windscreen washer bottle. The previous week in an attempt to avoid a day wasted going to Frankston I jacked the car up and took off the front right wheel and the panel lining the wheel area and the engine and found the broken elbow. I glued it (which didn't work, I found out later), and put it back and the panel and the wheel having wasted two hours but at least I knew what the problem was. I had hoped it might be as simple as a loose hose. I rang them at Skoda Frankston and told them what the problem was in the hope they would get the necessary part in before we went there, to avoid wasting a day going down there to be told what I already knew, and that we we would have to come back when they got the part. The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley (Robert Burns 1785 Steinbeck 1937).

The service people were polite and suggested we wait in the lounge, which we did, while the mechanics, who start work at 8am, examined the car and would give us an estimate on how long it would take. We discovered when booking the car in and providing them with the VIN that there had been a recall on that model and they would look into that too when we brought it down, to see if our vehicle had had the defect fixed. I sat in the plush lounge suite and read a Wheels Mag for ten minutes before falling into a blissful warm sleep (having an erotic dream) before being woken by the service clerk to tell me the car would take 2.5 hours, would we like a lift into town, and they could pick us up again later.

"How far is it?" I asked, to be told it was 5 or 10 minutes walk.

"No we'll walk," I replied. "We'll walk back about lunchtime."

"That'd be good, it will definitely ready by then," he said.

It was warm already at about 8.30 when we set out. The joint at the base of my big toe had been giving me buggery for a few days, to do with the RA, but walking slowly was not too bad although I limped to keep the pain minimal.We had a cooler bag and waterbottles and I was feeling strangely relaxed and pleasant. It was a day off for me, and here we were exploring what seemed like Car City. In my imagination I was in a foreign land, so different was it to my usual environment. We went past Suzuki, Kia and Mitsubishi dealerships, various mechanical repair shops, tyre fitting places, car upholstery, brake specialists. None of these were open as it was before 9, the street had litter everywhere, there was a railway line on the other side of the road. The grass in the nature strip was brown and what plants were in front of businesses were stunted and usually damaged and misshapen. It was real grungeville. A guy in a hurry passed us, he had short hair and a tattooed scalp I could plainly see as he went past, and various rings in his face and ears, otherwise we walked almost with the footpath to ourselves except for an Asian couple I suggested we follow as I reckoned they'd be going to the mall or shopping precinct.

The Asians turned at a corner where there was a big motor bike shop which advertised 'Harley rides on the Bayside'. Behind it was a tattoo shop, then a pawnbroker. We continued down to the Bayside Mall which was quiet and almost empty at the early hour. Shop keepers were arriving. We found a food court that had a 'Healthy Habits' eatery open and we indulged in a not so healthy egg and bacon roll and coffee. It was lovely having nothing pressing to do. As the people numbers increased I watched them walk by and noted their clothing. All shapes and sizes and ages. There were a lot of security people, most of whom looked like they could not secure nor stop anything but they had walkie talkies so I guess they would quickly have numerical advantage for most eventualities.

I was most impressed watching the two ladies working in the 'Healthy Habits'. They were pleasant when they served us and worked diligently when there were no customers preparing rolls carefully and arranging them for display with real purpose. It was early in the day but I thought how hard it would be working there all day on your feet dealing with food and people and then having to clean up. It looked like a franchise type shop, I don't know if one or both were owners or employees but I could feel nothing but admiration for them. This feeling extended to other employees in this mall and shops. It would not be easy working all day in this enclosed environment. There was a general good feeling about the whole place and the people working and shopping there. People getting on with their lives the best they could with no sign of disharmony. In fact there was a friendliness exuding that surprised me. I did not expect to find this at a mall in Frankston.

I wanted a hair cut, and to shop at Chemist Warehouse type place, these were two other objectives of mine for the day. There was a 'Big Chemist' in the mall so we headed there first thinking we'd check prices there and compare with 'Priceline' which was close by. I found all I wanted easily at the 'Big Chemist' and the price seemed good so with my basket loaded with a tub of Glucosamine, some CoQ10, Ethical Nutrients liquid fish oil and Gord's stuff, we went to pay. The young lady serving me had a name tag 'Ghani' and my curiosity roused as she did not look at all of ethnic background as I would expect if I came across a name I had not heard before in my nearly 63 years.

"That's an interesting name."

"Yes, it's Arabic, my mother got it from a book she liked. 'Dunes', by Frank Herbert, there was a series of about six."

"I haven't come across them, although I am a keen reader."

"They're science fiction, they were popular when I was born."

"I'm not into science fiction, but I'll look out for them. You must have an interesting mum."

"Yeah, she's a physicist."

"What does your dad do?"

"He's an electrical engineer, but they're both unemployed at the moment. I didn't get any of those science genes."

"My son has an honours degree in biotechnology but can't get a job in that field. Science education is not necessarily the answer. People skills are important."

This charming lady Ghani was about my sons age, and as attractive as I found her myself, I could only think how lovely it would be if I had such a daughter in law. I envy my peers who have this, whose children have married and brought them new family.

We said a warm farewell. Ghani asked me my name, which I took as a compliment. I told her I was not from around here and was unlikely to come back, but it was a pleasure meeting her. She was one of those people that we all meet from time to time who have an impact on you. Just some chemistry.

From there we found another food court, pretty much deserted at that hour, and I found a nice quiet corner to catch a nap while Gord checked out JB HI FI and some other. Gord found me at eleven and had a salad rap but I was not yet hungry and passed. We walked back to Skoda, the car was not ready, I had another nap on the lounge suite till they called us.

There was no charge, but they could not source the part locally, they have ordered it from Germany it will take three weeks, they'll call us, we'll have to come back to have it fitted no charge. They had sealed the old broken elbow they said, it should be OK till the new part comes in. I was not concerned. At least eventually, it would have a happy ending. Another day off, another little holiday.

I picked up some bulk honey at Dingley on our way home, then went to Fountain Gate where i had a lamb burger for lunch and a haircut. It was a Sri Lankan lady that cut my hair. She was very nice and had a lovely smile, all teeth.

So the dreaded trip to Frankston turned out to be a great day. In Narre Warren a large paunchy young fellow walked past wearing a T shirt that read, " Fuck you, I'm from Frankston." It did not offend me. I realized that, having just spent a morning there, the problem was with him, not Frankston.

I look forward to going back to get the the Skoda washers fixed. One thing's for sure, I'll be going to see Ghani.