Forward
This is the second in a series of articles about subjects that really annoy me. The list is long and growing. You could be here for some time……
“Getting old is no fun”, as my mum used to say. But I never thought it would happen to me.
I do get occasional glimpses of an old man in the mirror, who is clearly far older than what I think I am. But oddly, if out with old friends, I think that they are showing signs of ageing, but that I must be Benjamin Button.
But I do whinge like one of those miserable old gits, you occasionally have the misfortune to meet. I constantly think about my next meal, and although I still find attractive the same age of women, that I did thirty years ago. They do not fancy me, nor did they thirty years ago!
Straight into it:
Go! Go! FFS just Go! Jeez, there are so many crap drivers about, I reckon that must be a woman.
Eventually we get to the roundabout that gets access to the dual carriageway, and we are needing to turn left. I have had a shouting one-way conversation to the car drivers in front (or rather those in our car). That car did eventually go, and I move forward and go myself.
“You say FFS far too often and why are you accelerating like a madman?”
I just pulled out in front of that car, and I want to get away from the scene of the crime. FFS must be an old man thing; Brian reckons his brother-in-law says it all the time while driving. It just seems to roll off the tongue, just like “Build Back Better” “Bullshit Baffles Brains” “War is Peace” “Ignorance is Bliss” I cannot remember Orwell’s third one, is it “Driving is Painful?”
We pass the car that was in front of us at the junction.
“It was a man driving, and it’s: Ignorance is Strength plus Freedom is Slavery.”
Your right, your always right. That driver may be a bloke, but he is probably transitioning and really does need to! You know, for a woman, you are quite a good driver, but you border on the aggressive. I do not like the Latvian method of forcing people to speed up, by driving so close behind. That does not work here, it just winds people up. If anyone did it to me, I would jump on the brakes. But I am slowly coming to terms with your undertaking on motorways.
You are not so good in the Golf (manual) I feel every gear change. Do you not see my head butting the screen at each change? Do not take it personally, you are not alone. I have yet to be driven by a woman when you cannot tell when she is gear changing. Even if I am nodding off. As you know my gear changes are imperceptible. If you are thinking about transitioning to improve those gear changes, can you retain the boobs please!
“That is a big word for you and the reason your gear changes are imperceptible, is because you do not change gears very often, you still do not change, even when the display on the console tells you too! And why is it then, that you sometimes get out of the driver’s seat and insist I park the car?”
What display? I love third gear, and I cannot look over my shoulder like I used to be able too, and I am not so good at using the wing mirrors, damn, I mean door mirrors! That pulling out on another car, reminds me of a time before you were in my life, when me and a previous wife went out with Doug & Audrey, our old neighbours about 30 years ago. Back then there was next to no traffic on this dual carriageway. Doug was always proud to take us out in his maroon coloured 3 series BMW, a very popular car and colour amongst coffin dodgers back then. He pulled up to that very roundabout, there was no traffic for him to give way too. But he stopped, then when a car appeared from his right, he pulled out in front of it! Not once, the very next time he took us out, he did the same thing. It was almost like a ritual.
The best part of that story is because we were newbies to the area, he wanted to introduce us to the local pubs that served good food. On that second pulling out at the roundabout, I thought I would lighten things up by asking him which pub he was going to take us to this time. His answer: “The Cock in Hand!” I said that sounds like my sort of pub. Bless him, he was more embarrassed by saying that, than pulling out in front of the oncoming car, the old boy had got all confused between ‘The Bird in Hand’ and ‘The Cock Inn’
“You’ve told me that story before, just focus on the road, that car you cut up, is catching us up”
Shit, he has come off at the same slip road as us, and the traffic lights are on red. If he pulls up in the next lane, do not make eye contact with him!
No road rage incident to report, that driver hunting me down turned out to be a woman. As confirmed by my wife. She pulls alongside at the lights and starts staring at her lap.
Now that is a good-looking girl, not your usual corporate clone looks and in a brand-new Audi EV. Obviously, her husband’s treat. Is she wearing some of those sperm pockets? If not, she needs to if she wants to keep that car, they depreciate like billy-oh according to EV Carnage. Her husband will soon offload that, unless of course he supplies PPE to the NHS, in which case I have paid for the depreciation! I doubt he will offload this looker. Is that what they call a trophy wife? She is either admiring her latest thigh tattoo or reading her phone. Which is it?
“Stop staring, stop moaning, just drive, do you not realise the lights have changed?
After negotiating the various lights and roundabouts we are eventually on the NDR (Northern Distribution Road)
I hate this effing road, whoever designed this should had been kicked in the nuts, assuming she still has them. What a joke, no wonder The Nimmo Twins featured it in one of their sketches.
“We have this conversation every time we drive on it, and why are you keeping to the right-hand lane? There is nothing in the left lane.”
Because my dear, it is the safest lane to escape all the numpties unable to stay in their chosen lane on exiting the roundabouts. I have seen so many who swing over from left to right hand lanes on leaving. We have both seen aftermaths of cars coming together. Don’t you remember the cars parked up and drivers exchanging insurance details. And that biker that had clearly been knocked off with all the spilt coolant or petrol? I reckon staying in the fast lane is the only safe option. And look the roundabout chevrons sign has been wiped out again!
“But there are no other cars anywhere nearby, and why the right-hand lane if the drivers all swing into to that lane. Surely you are better off in the left-hand lane?”
Do you want to drive? Ok, I will return to the left-hand lane just to keep the peace. FFS! How slow is this guy? Now I am boxed in and there are so many cars in the right-hand lane. That’s the last time I listen to you. Yes, I know I have got too close to the car in front, but I am not braking as it will show to all those overtaking, that I have made a bad call. Plus, braking is a sign of weakness. OK, OK, I am braking. From now on I am going to permanently drive in the fast lane.
Time elapses with no further conversation, I wind the stereo volume up, she winds it down, so I try and play a game of increasing the volume on the steering wheel control, just as she decreases it on the volume knob. She always wins.
Never, ever turn down the volume to ‘Thunderstruck’ and would you believe it: They were talking over the guitar outro on ‘Sultans of Swing’ again. I reckon DJs do it on purpose, just to wind me up. They really cannot appreciate good quality music. It’s the same with putting the radio back on after turning it off because of those annoying funeral plan adverts. You always turn it back on, just as one of your favourite tracks is just playing out. Even worse if its ‘Sultans of Swing’ and you turn the radio on, just as the DJ cuts it short! Are we nearly there yet?
“No, we have another ten mins to go on the back roads”
Great, I take it, it will be one of those narrow lanes with banked verges and hedges and no Passing Places for miles? You know I hate reversing back a long distance to allow a car to pass.
“Yes, because you are so bad at reversing, remember when you hit the wall in the hire car, that had both parking sensors and a reversing camera?”
Paldies for that, I had forgotten, but it is great of you to remind me. I use the wing mirrors, damn I mean mirrors, and I am all over the place. As I reverse, I reckon the car in front, must be thinking “this guy cannot drive to save his life” and he’d be right! I have a suggestion: you do all the parking and reversing. There are no gear changes to be made when going backwards Do you want to drive the last part?
“No, man up, we are nearly there, and we hardly ever see another car coming the other way”
Now, you have talked that up. Oh FFS! look at the size of that tractor and he isn’t hanging around! That’s the door mirrors, (hallelujah!) scratched again. I told you to drive, your neck muscles are much younger than mine. The nearest Passing Place must be 500 yards back. And now two cars behind me are also reversing, we will all be fighting over a single car passing place next. This may be the longest reverse in the world! And why do the dogs always stand up, when you want to look out the rear window? Go, Go! FF…..Why have they stopped?
Great observation skills: the tractor has just pulled off the road and has gone onto a field. And what is a yard?
I can either look where I am going or where I have been, which is it? You made me look a bit off a twit there, by not telling me earlier. What’s the point in having a co-pilot if I have to fly solo? You will have to drive home; my head is permanently stuck from looking over my shoulder.
A yard is a similar length to a metre, I think its 3 yards 3 inches to a metre. There are three feet to a yard and twelve inches in a foot and inches are divided into quarters, eighths and sixteenths. None of that Froggie divide everything by ten nonsense. We are proud of our strange units, but I can never remember if its 16 or 14 ounces in a lb! Our non-metric system means that we were never conquered by Napoleon. That is something to be proud of, you do realise the British invented length? But to show comradeship with our European cousins, I order 3 by 2 in metres.
I reckon the mirrors are going to be really scraped, it’s a good job I am not anal about not wishing to damage this old girl. Unlike those we often encounter coming the other way, who to avoid hitting, means I mount the verge or stuff it in a hedge and then you see them in the mirrors as still being in the middle of their friggin lane! Most of them are in brand new Chelsea tractors and they dare not go anywhere near the verges.
Are we nearly there yet?
“FFS. I really hope so”
Graham Bedford
(Image by Alpha India)