The age of the damsel in distress is dead. And I for one, couldn’t be happier.
We no longer look at women and think they can’t possibly know how to change a tyre or swing an axe to chop some firewood.
No, the world has finally realised women are capable of doing kick arse things.
But there is a new epidemic plaguing our country. The ability of people to blatantly ignore a human in distress. When did we stop pulling over and offering a helping hand to our fellow Aussies?
When I heard that familiar little thump of a flat tyre on a drizzling Friday morning in Melbourne, I considered my options. I could collapse into a sobbing, distressed damsel on the footpath. Or I could just get on with it. My mind immediately went into problem solving mode.
I rolled into a servo on one of the busiest intersections in Brunswick, dodging drenched cyclists and honking, frenzied commuters. I popped on my raincoat, pushed up my sleeves and thanked my lucky stars that my dad taught me to change a tyre a few years ago.
As I worked, a cluster of suits amused themselves, watching my struggle as they waited for their tram.
As I jacked up my trusty Commodore, no longer able to distinguish between sweat and rain, they headed off to work without looking back. Dozens of people drove straight past me to fuel up, carefully avoiding eye contact. No one offered to help. No one so much as offered a sympathetic glance in my direction.
Covered in muddy grease but determined, I was tightening the final nut when I heard a voice behind me say, "excuse me..."
This is it, I thought. Someone is finally going to ask if I need help. Steeling myself with a smug grin, I turned to tell my would-be saviour to say, "It's alright, I've got this."