I hate bad drivers more than anything else in the world. To drive like a dick is the worst thing you can do, in my humble opinion. I’ve been run over three times which I guess might cloud my judgement but my hatred doesn’t stem from selfish reasons, oh no. When I see a dangerous driver I’m more concerned that they might have an accident which will cause people go through what I have had to. Getting run over even once is no picnic.
I’ve been having a bad week anyway so when I was driving along today just minding my own business I’m not surprised I exploded.
I was at the traffic lights when I glanced in my rear view mirror and saw somebody a bit too close to me. I shook my head but didn’t explode yet. We were stopped and getting too close when stopped isn’t too bad, might have been an accident. If it happened at the next lights I would have had to take action. However we never got to that stage – when I pulled away I checked the mirror and the fucker was still right behind me. I’m talking inches. I started to explode. I was wearing a hat as a disguise in case I saw the hitch-hiker from yesterday and this was making my head very hot. I’ve also been running too much which also makes me hot all the time, you might say I was hot and bothered. Really fucking bothered. Okay so fuckhead is right behind me, what do I do? I drive slowly of course. They’re in that much of a hurry they’ll realize being so close to me isn’t the smartest thing to do, right?
Wrong. They’re still right behind me and I’m losing it. I do a wanker gesture as I’m feeling brave now. No reaction. I mouth ‘fuck off’ into the rear view mirror. Still there. I couldn’t believe it. It was time for brake testing. I don’t give a fuck if somebody crashes into me as I’m insured and the driver who gets hit from behind is always in the right. So I drive along for a bit, check the mirror, they’re still there, so I hit the brakes hard and wait for the impact. There isn’t one. I try it again, and again. I’m screaming now, not just mouthing but screaming obscenities into the rear view mirror. Twat, arsehole, dicksplash, wankstain, tits, mongo, bellend, piss – you name it I screamed it.
A couple more minutes of that I thought that maybe it was the hitch- hiker from yesterday – it was the only logical explanation. This realisation shook me and my bravado turned immediately to panic. It wasn’t worth it, I looked for a side road and turned into it without using my indicators to foil any pursuit. That done I pulled over. I was shaking like a jelly. I looked in the mirror and cuntchops was stopped right. Fucking. Behind me. My bravado which had turned to fear evolved into despair. I was dead and I knew it. I got out of the car ready to meet my maker. When I was out of the car I realized the person I was shouting at was my wife’s mum, she was in the back of the car. It all came flooding back like a turned on tap. I was supposed to take her to the airport, that’s where we were going. That’s why I was in the car. Fuck, I thought. She was crying. I opened the back door and she recoiled from my hand. I was going to pat her. Instead I just said ‘there there’ and closed the door. I looked around to get my bearings then got in the front and drove to the airport in silence. I wore a puzzled expression on my face.