Posted: Dec 12, 2011 3:24 pm
by Someone
amok wrote:This is a four-part coincidence in one story, so I'll use it for the "three coincidences," plus one.

1) It starts in college, in Ottawa, a million years or so ago. I was in a journalism program, where there were only 20 or so of us. Being sort of a recluse, I really only became solid friends with one classmate over the years we were together. I was friendly with everyone, of course, but not friends, if you get my drift.

2) Fast forward about 15 years. I don't even keep much in touch with my family, so I had long since lost touch with my college buddy. Anyway, I was working at a small newspaper in Halifax, and living on the outskirts of town, on the edge of the harbour, on the remote, narrow, well-named Devil's Hill Road. Very steep hill will a hairpin curve at the bottom. There were only six houses on the road, and I lived just past the curve. One afternoon, as I was pulling out of my driveway to go to work, I saw that I wasn't going anywhere in my car. Someone was moving into the house at the very bottom of the hill, and their enormous moving truck had tipped over making the turn, blocking the road. Hmm. I lived about eight kilometres from the nearest bus stop, so I had to start making phone calls to get a ride into work. It was an awkward time, because I started at 5 p.m., but I finally found someone who could pick me up at the end of the road and give me a drive to work.

3) So I get to work, and there's a new guy on the copy desk. After the usual introductions all around, we settle into the shift, but he's a talker. A loud talker. Before much time has passed, we all know he's an ex-pat American from New Jersey, an ex-U.S. Marine, etc., etc. And here it comes: Man, he says, what a nightmare today - we were moving into our house and the truck tipped over right on the road! What?!, says I! Devil's Hill Road? Yes, indeed, he confirms. I tell my story. Much laughter and bemusement all around, because, while it's a small city, it's not that small a city.

4) As the evening progressed, I discovered a bonus. Buddy, says I, how did you get to work today? Turns out he was following the truck, so his car was in the clear. He had left his wife to deal with the disaster, and came to work. Great, says I, can I nab a lift home? Of course, says he. Considering we finished at 1 a.m., and I would have had to walk the last eight klicks home from the nearest bus stop, I was very pleased. Anyway, the shift ends, we drive home, and are both glad to see the road clear of tipped-over moving truck. The lights are on in his new house, so he asks me in to meet his wife. Sure, says I. And I walk in to come face to face with my long-lost college buddy. It's a small country, but it's not that small a country! :lol:

Yeah, one coincidence works if it's a good one. Wow!