[Penultimate column for The Advertiser]
Before I leave the house I am very clear about one thing, that when I travel things will go wrong.
This same understanding applies to life, but it seems the odds increase dramatically when I’m on the road.
It came as no surprise then, to hear my name announced over the Virgin PA: Would passenger Jon Doust please approach a Virgin staff desk.
There were only two of us at Gate 35 waiting for the Brisbane flight and she didn’t move from her seat, so it had to be me
Here’s what happened: somewhere between the security screening and the Virgin Lounge my wallet dislodged itself from my person, was retrieved by another person, relieved of its cash component and dropped to the floor, where it was retrieved by yet another person who took it to a Virgin receptionist.
All of that is, of course, guess work. All I know is someone gave my empty wallet to a flight attendant.
Whenever I lose money I always like to assume that the prick who took it was a prick who could do with a dose of luck and a quick cash injection.
But I also believe pricks shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it, so I contacted the Federal Police to see if they could assist an incompetent goose from a state with more money than theirs.
Two polite, heavily armed chaps turned up and we engaged in a meaningful and constructive conversion during which one of them said: Not much chance of getting your money back, Jon. This sort of thing happens all the time.
Then we had a good old laugh at my expense and the current state of Australian cricket.