Russell Kirkpatrick's Journal
The Case of the Exploding Gas Cylinder
20-Dec-2006
Today my son Alex and I had an exciting adventure together. We went to get his paintball gun gas cylinder refilled as part of his Christmas present. It was fun.
First we had to buy a new rubber seal because Alex broke the old rubber seal, causing the gas to evacuate swiftly, with attendant excitement. The seal had to be shipped from Rotorua, and it arrived in the Hunting and Fishing shop today. Cost: $1.50.
Then we proceeded across town at the height of Christmas shopping traffic to the paintball place where the Hunting and Fishing people assured me we could get the cyliner filled. When we arrived there Alex reminded me that the guy wouldn't be there unless we rung first. But there was a place where we could get the cylinder refiled. Just down the road from the Hunting and Fishing shop - back across town.
Because Alex lives his entire life in a dream world, he did not know where this place was exactly. So I bought a map. Imagine, me having to buy a map of my own city. While I was trying to choose a map, the gentleman at the counter lectured me on what makes a good map. I didn't have the energy to tell him I made maps for a living.
Map in had, we proceded back acroos town through bumper to bumber traffic to the street where we could get the cylinder filled. The man said it would take three hours to fill the cylinder because it needed to be cooled. We didn't have three hours so he filled it anyway, with much wastage of gas. Cost: $15.00.
After some other shopping, and stopping for a highly nutritious takeaway meal, we parked by the river and ate our food. The cylinder sat smugly on the back seat, silently absorbing the sun's rays. Suck suck suck it went.
When we had finished our burgers and cardboard we set off for home. A few hundred metres from home the back of the car exploded. There was an enormous shrieking hiss and suddenly the car was filled with CO2. I thought the petrol tank had let go. Alex assumed it was more of my weird music until he saw the cylinder spinning around on the back seat.
So we arrived home with the same cylinder we set out with, in much the same condition it had been three hours previously.
Later in the afternoon we went back across town, enduring gridlock, to the cylinder filling place. He explained that the valve on the cylnder had burst, and he could not fill it with gas. He also did not have a replacement part, nor could he tell us where to get one. By this time the Hunting and Fishing place was closed.
Four hours and many kilometres in total. Achievement = nothing.
I love Christmas shopping.
Now there's an idea, Russell. Get them a pool table, no gas to explode in the back of your car, and ample opportunity to play air guitar *g*
Seriously, I'm glad you weren't actually hurt.