Road Rage
Last week I had to stop a guy attacking another one in the middle of the road - one had run the lights whilst on the phone and the other had objected. I actually had to take the attacker's car keys out of their car and tell him he wasn't getting them back till he calmed down.
Looking back on it, I was lucky I was feeling all parental and in control or the situation could have panned out very differently.
Have you lost it on the roads, or have you been on the recieving end of some nutter?
( , Thu 12 Oct 2006, 21:31)
Last week I had to stop a guy attacking another one in the middle of the road - one had run the lights whilst on the phone and the other had objected. I actually had to take the attacker's car keys out of their car and tell him he wasn't getting them back till he calmed down.
Looking back on it, I was lucky I was feeling all parental and in control or the situation could have panned out very differently.
Have you lost it on the roads, or have you been on the recieving end of some nutter?
( , Thu 12 Oct 2006, 21:31)
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My Dad...
…was, in his 20’s and 30’s, a professional racing driver. Mini Coopers, since you ask. He was also a big fella, about six foot five (he had to take the front seat of the Mini out and sit on a specially adapted back seat to drive!). He taught me the basics of driving when I was 13 – gears, steering, picking the racing line, handbrake turns etc. All in all, he was a fucking great driver and a top dad.
But boy, did he have a temper. Me and mum knew he was a pussy cat, but he could be a really scary bloke if riled. And anything could rile him.
So one winter’s day we were out in the car, driving pretty slowly as the road was a bit snowy and icy. Out of the blue there’s a THUD on the side of the car – some local chavs were throwing snowballs at passing cars. THUD again. My Dad starts muttering something under his breath about “bloody kids”. Then we hear THUD...SMASH. They’ve thrown a snowball with a rock in it at the car behind us and it’s smashed the passenger side window. Dad pulls over to the side of the road roaring “Bunch of little shits. They’re not going to get away with that…” I slink down in my seat as I had a feeling I knew what was coming next.
Dad storms over to the bunch of kids and starts bawling them out about causing an accident and damaging people’s property. He’s really worked up, that vein in the side of his head is bulging and he’s gone red in the face. The kids are just ignoring him. Then one of them gets a bit cocky and decides to throw another snowball. At Dad.
Dad reached down and grabbed this kid by the ankles, picked him up, turned him upside down, carried to the end of the grass verge and proceeded to stuff the kid’s hoody with snow. When he’d filled his hoody, he then unceremoniously dumped him head first into someone’s front garden. Looking back I can see it may have been a *slight* overreaction and would probably get him done for child abuse in these enlightened times, but it was worth it just for the round of applause he got from the motorists who had stopped to see what was happening.
Remember, violence solves nothing. It can be quite funny though.
DaddyRakky died when I was 16 (and he was a mere 47). I’m not a great believer in the afterlife, but if there is one, I like to think of him in some celestial pit lane, spending his days arguing with Ayrton Senna and driving as fast as he liked because nothing could hurt him any more.
I won’t do a cock gag, he’d have hated that…
( , Fri 13 Oct 2006, 13:24, Reply)
…was, in his 20’s and 30’s, a professional racing driver. Mini Coopers, since you ask. He was also a big fella, about six foot five (he had to take the front seat of the Mini out and sit on a specially adapted back seat to drive!). He taught me the basics of driving when I was 13 – gears, steering, picking the racing line, handbrake turns etc. All in all, he was a fucking great driver and a top dad.
But boy, did he have a temper. Me and mum knew he was a pussy cat, but he could be a really scary bloke if riled. And anything could rile him.
So one winter’s day we were out in the car, driving pretty slowly as the road was a bit snowy and icy. Out of the blue there’s a THUD on the side of the car – some local chavs were throwing snowballs at passing cars. THUD again. My Dad starts muttering something under his breath about “bloody kids”. Then we hear THUD...SMASH. They’ve thrown a snowball with a rock in it at the car behind us and it’s smashed the passenger side window. Dad pulls over to the side of the road roaring “Bunch of little shits. They’re not going to get away with that…” I slink down in my seat as I had a feeling I knew what was coming next.
Dad storms over to the bunch of kids and starts bawling them out about causing an accident and damaging people’s property. He’s really worked up, that vein in the side of his head is bulging and he’s gone red in the face. The kids are just ignoring him. Then one of them gets a bit cocky and decides to throw another snowball. At Dad.
Dad reached down and grabbed this kid by the ankles, picked him up, turned him upside down, carried to the end of the grass verge and proceeded to stuff the kid’s hoody with snow. When he’d filled his hoody, he then unceremoniously dumped him head first into someone’s front garden. Looking back I can see it may have been a *slight* overreaction and would probably get him done for child abuse in these enlightened times, but it was worth it just for the round of applause he got from the motorists who had stopped to see what was happening.
Remember, violence solves nothing. It can be quite funny though.
DaddyRakky died when I was 16 (and he was a mere 47). I’m not a great believer in the afterlife, but if there is one, I like to think of him in some celestial pit lane, spending his days arguing with Ayrton Senna and driving as fast as he liked because nothing could hurt him any more.
I won’t do a cock gag, he’d have hated that…
( , Fri 13 Oct 2006, 13:24, Reply)
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