# Product Placement



## Who is John Galt? (Sep 28, 2016)

20170608
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Today was an absolute blast! I haven't laughed so much in weeks - and that is saying something. I have a whole kit bag of stories about today, but thought you might be interested in this one about the great 'non-employer'.

As you may have anticipated, there is a bit of a back story here. This was very early afternoon, just prior to lunch and I had a pick up on Frome Road at one of the 25,000  university campuses we have in Adelaide now. This was one of those 2 minute pickups. Nice.  Hopefully a trip to the Flinders Ranges. 

The address was non specific on the beautiful plane tree lined Frome Rd but indicated with the pin at an entrance to the University of Adelaide. I was travelling south along Frome Road and to save a whole bunch of aggravation, I pulled in left into a staff carpark for either the Uni or the Royal Adelaide Hospital on the east side of Frome.










I thought; this is easy. As I pulled into the very small carpark, several young ladies looked up and I called out 'Abbie'? (the rider's name). Each of the young women who I called out to looked away. I parked in the dean of medicine or some other Über side gig's carpark and thought OK, maybe I will have to work this a little.

I had had two consecutive lucrative trips, so I was feeling pretty cruisy and I was listening to one of my language audio lessons, so I wasn't particularly rushed. I had sent my first message to 'Abbie' asking her to cross the road to the small carpark opposite. While I was sitting there and repeating my language lesson phrases, out of the corner of my eye I saw this young woman talking to a security guard and pointing at my car.

Uh oh!

This punk is staring at me and starts half walking, half running towards the car and it appears that he is unbuttoning his holster as he approaches. Gulp !! There is now a flock of girls starting to form behind him, and after turning the audio lesson off I can hear one or two of them saying "Yeah, that's him. That's the guy prowling around for Abbie".

I could see a bit of a dilemma here.... I envisaged my rider 'Abbie' across the way, about to appear any minute, only to see the car surrounded by a bunch of wild banshees and a couple of security guards with weapons drawn. Not a good look.  Not a good way to start another fabulous WIJG trip to paradise.

What to do? As the security guard got closer, I could detect an Italian 'patina' about him. This sort of observation and detection is not something that is taught in school or picked up from hints on a gum wrapper. It is something that is gleaned from countless hours working in an Italian 'capacity' as a 'nephew' usually in a mafioso hang out. I had picked up these skills whilst working with Contessa Teresa "Tracy" di Vicenzo and her father Marc-Ange Draco. This has been previously discussed  *here *.

I greeted the man in Italian. He immediately softened. He shooed away the girls and leaned on the edge of the window and we chewed the fat while I tried to tie down 'Abbie' by text. I had thought about cancelling, but there was that little something 'calling me'. The security guy hinted that I should come home for dinner and meet his sister...... It never stops.

There was a good ten minute text conversation with 'Abbie'. Sometimes you just get a 'feeling'.

Finally, I pulled into the kerb and swept her off her feet. While negotiating with the killer buses on North Terrace, I turned left into Pulteney to go around the block, and my beeeautiful pax in the back seat told me her name was Giselle. What the !?... Obviously, dealing with more than two issues at once is usually outside the 'male spectrum' and looking in the rear vision mirror, my first issue with Giselle was survival of the species and the second issue was navigating between buses and pedestrians. So, the incorrect name would have to wait.

The destination was Magill. Easy. Cruisy. Once back on North Terrace, heading east, we each had a moment. There was the involuntary intake of breath. Whoa! This was going to be nice.

Giselle is from Mauritius and is visting her son and her daughter-in-law 'Abbie' in Adelaide. Unbelievably, Abbie had booked the trip for her mother-in-law, and was relaying my text messages from Magill to North Terrace whilst I was juggling dinner invitations with Carlo deSlippo's sister.

And so...there was the 'ol unmistakable accent and I slipped into Giselle's native, tongue. Approximately 20 mins and 8 kms. North Terrace, and then straight up Magill Road. Total, total connection. We got close to the turn off at St Bernards Road. Giselle dived in. Lets have lunch together at the Tower Hotel on the corner before we get to the 'kid's place', she suggested.

To be perfectly honest I cannot really remember the character and atmosphere of the dining room. I vaguely recall eating a very nice meal of flathead fillets and salad. What I do recall, vividly, is every word of the conversation between Giselle and myself.

After two hours, Giselle's phone was going off every ten minutes. She showed me the text messages from the concerned daughter-in-law. 'Are you OK?' 'What is happening with this Über guy?' 'Are you OK?' 'Please call'.
Bloody kids!

We made some arrangements. 
There is obviously a sequel to this encounter.

Before we left, I went to the men's room.
At this particular point in the story, I wanted to highlight the Übe's advertising in the mens' room of the Hotel.














I aplogise for the quality of the photos, but I think you get the picture 

There is nothing quite like advertising and marketing epicurean delights above a urinal. Real class!


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## Surge Donut (Jun 5, 2017)

What a delight to read


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## Jack Malarkey (Jan 11, 2016)

Superb.


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## Yasmani (May 6, 2017)

Her name was Magill,
and she called herself Lil
But everyone knew her as Nancy.


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