There are some shocking drivers out there. Bad driving takes many forms, from the passive to the aggressive, and I get to experience them all during my daily commute on the delightful M27.
Let’s start with The Bum Bandit. No, of course I am not being homophobic. I’m talking about tailgating, or as I like to call it, ‘sitting right up my arse’.
Look, buddy, I can only go as fast as the car in front of me, which is faster than the lane to my left, and not as fast as the lane on my right. If you wish to go faster than me, FUCKING OVERTAKE ME.
Sometimes, the Bum Bandit will perform a maneuver called ‘the invisible chicane‘. The invisible chicane is where a tailgater sits up your arse, then dramatically overtakes you, before veering back across both lanes in front of you, and into the slow lane – usually done just before the exit they need. This means they get to scare the shit out of 67% more motorists in one maneuver.
Bum Bandits perform this move to prove a point: they think you shouldn’t be sat in the middle lane.
I would like to point out that if I want to go faster than the car in front of me, I move into the next fastest lane and stay there until there’s a bit of road in the slow lane with no cars. I do this because I’M NOT A FUCKING BULLY.
This leads me neatly onto The Centre of the Universe, so called because they have absolutely no concept of what is going on in the world outside of their car.
Centre of Universe people have a medical condition that means they can’t look left or right or move their eyeballs to any position that’s not dead ahead. As such, they are usually to be found sat in the middle lane, for no apparent reason, usually doing about 50 MPH.
Despite their potential to turn me into a Bum Bandit, I resist. Because I am not a complete prick.
Centre of Universes are very easily distracted and forgetful and this can result in evolving into the most annoying entity in the history of driving: The Never Ending Indicator.
The first few seconds are amusing (hehehehe. He left his indicator on. Dumbass).. Then it becomes irritating (OK, getting annoying now. I’ll just gently flash my lights to let him know he’s still indicating)… Before becoming full on rage (OH MY GOD, SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU DEAD? THERE MUST BE SOME SORT OF NOISE OR FLASHING LIGHT ALERTING YOU TO THE FACT YOU’VE BEEN SIGNALING RIGHT FOR FIVE HOURS, DESPITE HAVING TAKEN AT LEAST TWO LEFT TURNS SINCE!!!).
Then there’s The Sun. This is the name I have chosen for those who seem to have headlights powered by some ungodly alien power source, or plutonium, or something.
Dear god, where did you get those headlights? They are so bright they turn night into day. I reckon they are so fucking bright, you must be able to see the future.
It’s fine sitting behind The Sun, especially if your night vision ain’t so good, or if your own headlights are more candlelight than searchlight. But if The Sun is overtaking you or (god forbid) coming towards you, you’d better hope you know that road like the back of your hand, because the only thing you’ll be able to see for the next hour is antimatter.
What makes matters even worse is the fact that these balls of blinding blue solar flares are usually attached to Chelsea tractors, meaning their headlights are at eye level.
Seriously, you’re not driving a deep sea submersible, and you don’t need X-Ray capability on a school run. Dim them down, or I’ll shove your lights where the sun don’t shine.
Not everyone on the road makes me angry. Some of them just perplex me:
The car with scatter cushions on the parcel shelf
People who drive with hats on
Souped up Citroen anything
To these motorists, I do not say “fuck you”, but simply “WHY????”…
If I have missed any characters who you encounter on the roads, please comment in the appropriately named comments field…