Im sure I never used to be quite so stressed when I drove a car.
I remember when I first passed my test I would love driving. I would always be conscious of the highway code, as did most other drivers. There would be courtesy, people would happily give way to each other, and in all, going for a drive was much like taking a ride on Chitty Chitty Bang Bang.
These days I feel like I need a shoulder massage and a counselling session after just driving to the local supermarket.
Maybe its because there are more cars on the road these days as opposed to back then. Maybe its because Im just older and less tolerant, or maybe it’s just because every one else is a complete and utter dick head. Im going with the latter.
Here’s a few examples:
The Privileged: That moment when you come to a stretch of road where loads of cars have parked outside a school for example, so you pull over to give the oncoming traffic right of way. I don’t mind doing this, but what does my absolute head in is when those bastards coming the other way don’t even lift a hand to say thank you. Yes, I know its their right of way, but still….it’s just polite.
The One Finger Salute: Then there’s those people that do thank you for pulling over, but they thank you by lifting one finger. What the absolute f***k is that all about? One finger? I tend to raise one back, but generally not the same one.
The Psychic: The people who don’t think their car actually came with an indicator. Especially on roundabouts!!! This lot do my head in. I’ve had a couple of near misses where an oncoming car hasn’t indicated so I’ve pulled out, only to have them then continue turning, and then start gesturing at me for getting in their way. Seriously? The indicator is not a clitoris, you have no excuses for not finding it!
The Jobsworth: Those who think just because they are driving at ten miles an hour, they are driving safely. The big news for you is that you are not. Generally there is a queue of cars a mile long behind you, all pulling in and out to try and overtake without driving headlong into oncoming traffic. And why is it that you always get stuck behind them when you are in a bloody rush?
The Nervous: Those motorists who brake every time a car comes the other way!? Oh dear God what’s that about? Seriously, the road is generally wide enough for the oncoming traffic not to suddenly veer across to the left and wipe you out in a horrific pile up, unless of course a swarm of angry bees suddenly enters their car causing imminent swerving.
The Boy Racer: Another classic are those absolute tossers who just cannot bear to let you overtake them on the motorway. They sit in the outside lane under the speed limit until you practically have to climb over the top of them before slowly moving over, ostensibly to let you pass. But wait a minute…hang on… they suddenly find an extra gear and decide to speed up, thus turning your journey home into a bloody drag race on the A41. This isn’t bloody Thunder Road you know.
The Bully: Now I don’t drive slowly, so when I get a guy zooming up behind me in a big penile extension it generally means that they are waaaaaay over the speed limit. If I have the means, trust me, I will get the hell out of the way, but sometimes you just can’t do that immediately, so when said driver then starts swearing and waving his fists it kind of puts a damper on your mood. Don’t get me wrong, women do this too, and it doesn’t make it right, but its a hell of a lot more threatening for a man to do it to a woman, and just damn disrespectful.
The Road Hog: That driver that will not stop for anything. Red light….nope. Roundabout…..nope. Single lane traffic….nope. Pedestrian crossing…..nope. I’m sorry, I must have missed the memo that you actually own the road.
The Texter: This could not be simpler. DO NOT DRIVE AND TEXT. You will die. And if you don’t,
you will cause someone else to die. You are a dick head.
The Cyclists: OK, so these guys are not ‘drivers’ as such, but they use the roads too, and when you get a group of lycra clad, middle aged, Bradley Wiggins wannabes, riding three across on a road, not willing to go single file, when they don’t even pay tax, it makes you want to reach out of the passenger window as you ride past and…. well I’ll leave that one to the imagination.
So with all those dick heads on the road, I suppose its only right to point the finger at myself too, while Im at it. We all think that we’re fantastic drivers while everyone else needs either an instant ban or at least a slap round the face with a wet fish.
When Im behind the wheel I envisage myself as as Michael Schumacher, whereas others probably see me as more like Rain Man, telling everyone what an excellent driver I am. In reality, I suspect I am an ok driver will an element of sweary tosser. Everyone without exclusion gets sworn at by me, be it man, woman, child, car, pigeon….or even tree. In fact if I had a swear box in my car, I would be able to afford to have someone else to drive it for me, so I could just sit in the back and concentrate purely on the swearing.
Now where did I put my f****ing piggy bank?