It all started on Wednesday. My boss was insistent I attend a post-graduated networking meeting with a view to enticing some graduate engineers. I saw problems with this. Any post grad student attending this particular event wasnâ€™t going to have a job and in the current environment that means they are likely to have two heads. Despite this my boss was insistent I attend, so off I trundle to talk to the two-headed beasts. It was actually worse than I thought. Firstly it was full of Electrical Engineers. Now those that know this breed will already be nodding their heads. See these people graduate not only knowing absolutely everything there could possible be to know about electrical Engineering, but all there is to know about all other forms of Engineering and everything to do with all aspects of the world. This knowledge is only diminished by subsequent years of beating with a 1m length of multi-core. The second problem was the cultural background of these students. The vast majority were from one particular ethnic group. Now this ethnic group haggles. Not negotiate. Haggle. All the time. The simple question of â€œHow ya goin?â€ would commence a process where they would attempt to leave you in no doubt that they were not only well, but more well than yourself. Now, whilst there are times when this in an appropriate quality, discussing career options with a potential employer is not one of those times. I had one student go well over the mark. He would not have it that my company had no opening for him and indeed would never have one, because we have no use for an â€œElectronicsâ€ Engineer. Let me tell anyone who is in any doubt, aggressive haggling is not an endearing quality to potential employers. So it was an altogether frustrating and unsuccessful evening. The next morning at work I was lamenting this fact to the boss and another colleague and made some unflattering remarks about said race. Now I can assure you this is not normal behaviour for me. My neighbours are of said race and I often spend time on a weekend drinking with said neighbour. Now immediately after this I was to attend a second interview with a young Electrical Engineer, of the above said race, whom I fully intended to, and indeed did, offer a job. In doing so you would think that any bad Karma brought about by the previous remarks would be re-balanced. Well it turns out I was wrong. Contacting the candidate later in the day revealed she had accepted an offer with another company. Bugger! She was a good candidate. So surely Karma is now balanced? Pffft. Riding home that afternoon I hit reserve near work. Which leave me filling up at one particular servo about half way home. Now I donâ€™t like this servo. I suspect Iâ€™ve had some dodgy fuel there and the staff are just rude. Theyâ€™ll finish their conversation before turning on the pump and do the same before serving you at the counter. The problem is all the other stations I go past are on the other side of multi-lane dived roads. There is one a few kâ€™s further on, that is not too bad to get too but you have to risk bad traffic to get to it, and with low fuel itâ€™s a gamble. Now it just happens this first servo is run by people of the above said race. So I pull into said green and yellow petrol station at Yagoona and note there are no cars ($1.56) and the attendant is restacking shelves. He sees me. I pull off my sunglasses, helmet, gloves, remove the tank bag, find the key for the tank, open the tank and put the nozzle in the tank. The pump doesnâ€™t come on. I look into the fish-bowl and canâ€™t see anyone. I stand there for a minute and finally the attendant stands up from the middle of the shop. He looks at me and I think â€œtypicalâ€. Instead of walking over and turning on the pump, he walks off into a back room! So I now put the nozzle back in the bowser and get redresses and I start the bike. Look back into the fish bowl and still see no-one. So I pull the nozzle out of the bowser, dump it on the ground and ride off. Of course all through this the word Karma has not entered my mind. And of course the inevitable happened. Half way to the next servo I run out of petrol. Right in front of a b-double Iâ€™d filter to the front in front of. Not a splutter, just a dead engine. So Iâ€™m now left with about 2 kilometres to push a 250kg motorcycle. Strangely enough the Karma DOES come to mind during this period of pushing. I get to the servo, fill up, pay attendant, who happens to be of above said race and go back to the bike and go to put the fuel tap on â€œpriâ€ to get it started. Of course itâ€™s not on â€œresâ€ but â€œonâ€. Now Iâ€™m not entirely sure when I put it to â€œonâ€, but given the way my luck has paned out since I had disparaging thoughts about a particular race, Iâ€™m betting I put it on â€œonâ€ when I was back at the original servo. Which would explain why I not only ran out of fuel, but why it ran out so suddenly. So whatâ€™s the moral of the story? Donâ€™t get into a Karma trading contest with Indians. They not only have a monopoly on Karma, they are pretty mean hagglers.