The Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras (plus several other initials). Parramatta railway station - the train is running late. Damn, I'll miss Dykes on Bikes. Oh, change platforms. Quick, run for your life. Train arrives, one of the old and decrepit versions - like me. No seats left, well, I spot one seat with a sports bag on it. I asked the sports bag owner if he would move it so I could sit down. No problemo. Based on the conversation between this bloke and his female companion I figured he was a railway employee. I asked him something in connection with late night train services and he was happy to oblige.
The Mardi Gras parade was the most successful ever. My guess is there were at least a million people in Sydney city that night. Crushed half to death I staggered back from Flinders Street and wound my way back to George Street. Unsure where-abouts I had exited the madness, I figured I was somewhere between Town Hall and Wynyard. I wanted Wynyard - don't ask me why. I started walking in one direction but I suspected I was walking the wrong way. Stopped at traffic lights I asked the bloke in front of me if I was walking in the right direction for Wynyard station. "Yes" he said, "Keep walking - about another ten minutes." I recognised him. It was the same bloke I had spoken to on the train.
What are the chances?