Thursday, May 12, 2011

Arseholes Are Like Opinions, Everybody's Got One

A mate of mine, who shall remain nameless, claims he hates 98% of everybody. Not just the people he knows, but everybody. How he can be so sure of the exact percentage, I don't know, but what I am starting to realise is the perhaps he's not as misanthropic as I thought he might be.

People are just complete and utter bastards. Most of them I wouldn't piss on if they were on fire and if I could have immunity from prosecution, I'd start mowing down great swathes of them before I could finish writing this sentence with the biggest and most powerful automatic weapon I could find. I really have lost that loving feeling... Especially to drivers of cars.

What I would like to know is how some of the people driving on the roads ever got driving licenses? Yeah, some of them haven't, but in my experience it's the ones without licenses that are the safest drivers - that's not saying I condone the illegal act, but for fuck's sake I wish more illegal drivers would inhabit the roads, at least that way I'd feel as though they're all not out to kill me!

Coming back from work this morning, I witnessed no fewer than 5 examples of crass stupidity, dangerous driving and aggressive arrogance from people who probably are very lovely to their friends and are not cruel to animals and love their children, but give me a big knife or some dynamite and I'd show - in several thousand bits - just why that person had to die.

It started with the driver of the Vauxhall. "Sorry mate, but you can't park there." I looked around and couldn't see a sign that said permit holders only nor was there any restrictions imposed. I asked him why and was dumbfounded when he said, "Because that's where I normally park." Now, I ask you, what would you do in my situation? I'm less than 100 yards from the shop I want, but there's this guy who obviously fancies himself telling me that I've parked in his [read: anyone's] parking space. What to do? So being slightly arsey, I suggested it didn't have his name on it and started walking up the road to the shop. "Be a shame if your shiny Fiat gets an ugly scratch on the doors, wouldn't it?" Suddenly everything went a shade darker. I stopped and looked at the guy, about 35 wearing a tracksuit (natch) and with short cropped hair. Instead of over reacting or even essentially having any reaction, I looked at him incredulously and said, "What?"

Now I need to point out that he's double parked; just as I was getting out of my car he pulled up and is parallel with the car directly behind me. He just stopped there and got out of his car. I'm hypothesising here, but from the look of the slippers on his feet, he had just jumped in the car and gone to get the fags that he was holding; in the 3 minutes he was gone, I came along and pinched his parking spot and guess what? The next one was right down the other end of the street, a couple of hundred yards at least.

His answer to my question was literally to stroke the side of my car. I can't afford some wanker damaging my car and I wasn't about to start an argument with this guy. I muttered For Fuck's Sake under my breath and walked back to the car. I was allowing myself to get bullied, but what do you do? Honestly, would you risk a fight in the street with a person brazen enough to do that? I know I wouldn't. The insult was him waving at my like a child as I pulled away. That is a man who needs a serious beating by someone even more of a cunt than he is.

So, I decides that the milk I need will be available on Collingwood Road; but before I could get there I almost had the front of my car taken off by a Renault Espace that only stopped at the last minute as I drove past the road it was on. I could see the woman driving talking to her passenger, completely engrossed about something and thought, half-jokingly, 'She isn't going to stop!' She almost didn't.

After narrowly avoiding that, I get to a mini roundabout and almost have the front of my car removed again, this time an old bastard in a Fiesta is turning right at the junction, but doesn't bother to indicate. I throw my hands up in exasperation and am amazed that he manages to see this and flick me the Vs while failing to indicate where he's going - I suppose he needs his hands to be offensive to other drivers. I'm now slightly fearful of the rest of my journey and with good reason; as I pull into the aforementioned Collingwood, a woman in a Nissan 4x4 just pulls out in front of me. From a standing start, parked on the other side of the road, she just pulls into the middle of the road. I slam on my brakes, toot my horn and she's like looking at me totally unaware that she almost hit me; then calls me a wanker and turns right down Ashburnam.

I get the milk I want, get back in the car and head home. I pull into Fullingdale and there's a big fuck off BMW doing a sort of 3 point turn using the car pads at the rear of our convenience store. The road is busy, but he just carries on doing what he was doing, aware but ignorant of my presence and that of another car coming in the opposite direction. Yet when the lady driving the grey Vauxhall and I look at this guy being incredibly rude and selfish, he just tells us both to fuck off. I mean, how could we be so audacious; it was obviously his road because he has such an expensive BMW.

Very expensive as it happens; a call to my 'friend', the manager of a local BMW garage and he said it was worth about £70k - which is more than my first two houses cost; put together. He also said that if I knew the registration number or even give me a good description, he could probably find out who the car belonged to, especially if the car had been bought from his place. Being game for a laugh and all that it turned out the owner of the car was a Milos Djurovic. I wonder if he pays his road tax or even has a driving license recognised by this country?

Now as this was 100 yards from my front door you would think that nothing else could happen. Well, think again. Now, you all remember the Eastern European exhibitionists over the road? The couple that like to shag with the curtains open? Well, he's a taxi driver (no surprises there) and today was either hosting the tea party for the local taxi firm or had got all the drivers together to discuss forming an Eastern European wing of Bounds Taxis. The entire fucking road is empty apart from about a dozen taxis parked all around his house; where I park my car, where the wife parks - everywhere!

Being slightly pissed off by this point (and this was before I found out about friend Djurovic), I stopped the car, knocked on his door and essentially did what had happened to me not 10 minutes earlier; except I did it in a civilised and friendly manner. My neighbour apologised, but the owner of the taxi parked in front of my house looked a trifle pissed off that he was going to have to walk 30 feet further.

All of that took 11 minutes; from leaving work, buying some milk and getting home, I managed to encounter at least 5 arseholes.

Obviously this is something that happens more increasingly every day; the roads are never likely to be anything but hostile, selfish and potentially violent. Whoever uses the roads begins to feel that they own the part they're using, even if evidence suggests they're not actually using it at that specific moment.

It's not like I'm standing here (or sitting as is more accurate) suggesting that I've never been selfish in the car, but the wanton ignorance and stupidity of other drivers leads me to believe that these are either people who need signs to go to the toilet or they're just hateful cunts who are so over confident and full of self belief that they are completely oblivious of other people; thick chavs with pointless and vacuous lives.

Gah, people, don't you just fucking hate them?

This unscheduled rant was brought to you by Injury Lawyers 4 U and The Only Way Is Essex.

No comments:

Post a Comment