Angus and Liam ... they are never too far apart.
The bugger didn’t stop running for about a kilometre, something that really cleared my head. It not great for him to be out roaming because there are lots of dogs in the area, not a great thing when you’re, like Angus, a wuss who’s fond of picking a fight.
Out the front of Liam’s house, there’s a veritable seafood supermarket. There are steps cut into the cliff that lead to the rock shelf that is the introduction to the ocean.
It’s about 40 metres wide at low tide and it’s safe to walk out to its edge ... locals armed with a bamboo pole and a piece of string often fish there and catch stuff ... although it’s always on the alert for a rogue wave.
There’s a deep blue hole just before the drop-off, which, Liam says, is teeming with fish. He’s a keen snorkeller and has a spear gun and also a long, hand-held spear, so his plans are for plenty of fish on the menu.
He rang me the other morning to tell me about his latest sojourn into the deep blue. “I went out with Matty (he’s a plumber and champion bloke) to see what was going on. We had a look around the blue hole and then headed out beyond the rock ledge into about 80 feet of water. It was much further out than I’d ever been before.
“I made a dive, had a look around, and as I came back to the surface, something hit my fin really hard. I shit myself.
“I spun around and all I could think of was heading in. It was bloody Angus. Bastard can’t bear to be away from me for five minutes.
“There he was paddling for all it was worth in 80 feet of water.” It’s true, Angus hates it when the boss is out of sight.
Liam’s iPhone has been giving him grief for a while, a bad thing given that’s it’s really his work computer.
It finally gave up the ghost just before I left. We tried everything … no go. I decided to bring it back with me in the hope that I could get it fixed and shunt it back to him before he starts work again next Tuesday. His boss, Ryan, is in Melbourne until this arvo, so no problem.
First and foremost, I was astonished to find that there are just four Apple shops in Melbourne, but no matter, I went online and made an appointment at Chadstone shopping centre.
I arrived there in plenty of time to find a parking spot (yeah, like that was ever gonna happen). I finally went in to one of the car parks, worried the whole time about the height restriction.
As I eased the LandCruiser under the height bar, I was relieved when the cab made it through, but then the bar on the back hit it. Shit, too late to turn back (there were cars behind me) so I drove through, looking for a spot, all the while shitting myself because I reckon I had less than 10 centimetres clearance. I crawled along in first gear, all the while with visions of getting stuck on a light fitting or whatever and having to be surgically removed.
I was relieved to get out of there (of course there were no spots) and I drove what seemed like two laps of the shopping centre and still couldn’t find a spot.
I gave up and headed for the Maccas down the road. I’d walk back. Yeah, that was gonna be good … it was just 40 degrees.
I got to Apple about five minutes early, made my presence known, and waited. Pretty soon, young Tom said g’day and took the phone away for some diagnostics. He was back about 10 minutes later and the news wasn’t good.
“It’s got a fake screen, there are some screws missing inside, it’s out of warranty and the battery is done,” he said. Damn, it was beyond fixing. What to do?
Tom headed off for a chat with his manager and came back with a smile.
“Despite all the problems, we’ve decided to replace it … for a fee of $229,” he said. “Done,” I said, “that’s fantastic.”
It’s not hard to see why Apple is so successful. For a big company, the service is a cracker.