The Drain

I rode to the Scotto earlier this evening to meet my friends, Luke, Steve, Jason and Ben. As I arrive I see Ben is parking his bike against a parking sign. I pull my bike up alongside his. 

‘I’ll lock our bikes together,’ I say. 

‘No,’ Ben says. ‘Don’t’. 

I do it anyway, wind my cable around both frames and secure the U-lock, both our bikes safe.

I take my helmet off and notice my headphone cord is stuck to the strap on my helmet. I give it a shake and my set of keys flies out of my hand and drops into a storm drain beside the curb.

It takes me a second to realise that the set of keys held my only key to the U-lock. I look at Ben, who doesn’t yet realise that I’ve locked his bike to mine. I tell my friends what happened and they leave the table and look down into the drain. It’s murky down there.

Ben notices our bikes. ‘Why did you lock our bikes together?’ he asks. ‘I told you not to.’ 

I don’t have a good answer. 

Soon we’re surrounded by Scotto patrons. A couple help lift the storm drain cover and a friend, Grace, lends me a couple of wire coat hangers from her dry cleaning. I lie down on the road beside the open drain and reach down extending the bent coat hangers.

I spend what feels like half an hour trawling the thick sludge at the bottom of the drain with the coat hangers while Steve stands over me Facebook live streaming it on his phone. 

‘No,’ I say. ‘Don’t.’ He does it anyway. 

I feel hands on my shoes for a second. I turn and a pickled old man asks ‘Shall I push you in?’ 

‘No,’ I say. ‘fuck off.’ 

The man saunters off, cackling. Another man approaches with a metal wand which has a small magnet on the end. ‘I don’t think that will work,’ I say. ‘Have a go,’ he reckons. I try it. It doesn’t work.

Meanwhile, people on the live stream are suggesting trying other scooping tools, my housemate Alvin suggests a pool rake. 

‘Try the town of Vincent,’ Luke says. ‘They might help.’ 

I call their after-hours emergency number and they get in touch with a ranger and tell me to wait for a call back. 

‘The ranger will call soon,’ I tell Ben. 

He and our friend Simon Gauntlett are holding a Dremel cutting tool to my cable lock. 

‘Proceed,’ Ben says, and the tool cuts through the lock like butter. The bikes are free.

The ranger calls. I explain the situation and the ranger assures me that she wouldn’t have been able to help anyway.