b3ta.com qotw
You are not logged in. Login or Signup
Home » Question of the Week » Road Rage » Post 63313 | Search
This is a question 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)
Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, ... 1

« Go Back

I was on my way to a fancy dress party.
My mate was driving in his rather mundane Rover 400, as the American Psycho - smart shirt, tie, shiny shoes, only spoilt by the red food poisoning he'd liberally splashed around as blood. I was dressed up in my Dad's old Police riot outfit - black bodysuit, utility belt, headstomping toe caps. No Police tags, because I wouldn't want to be breaking the law or anything.

Cruising down the A3 to Portsmouth, we get tailgated by a cunt in a Merc, who roars past us. My mate and I exchange glances, nod, he floors it and starts beeping and flashing his lights - we saw the driver do the double take in his rear view mirror as I held up my wallet (to suggest I MAY have some kind of identity in it...) He pulls over; we pull in behind, step out and walk up to him.

He's a fat old cunt, balding on top, and visibly perspiring as he has the window wound down. "Yes?" he stammers, trying to bluff bravado.
"Can you explain your driving back there, sir?" I ask, in a deadpan voice, staring at him. He breaks gaze. "Not really, officer." "So you have no justifaction for driving like a cunt then?" I ask him. He's obviously not used to being spoken like that, because he opens his mouth and then closes it, lips going thin.

"So how about you stop playing with the lives of everyone else on the road then, or I'll have your fucking license!" I spat at him, and walked back to my mates car. We pulled out and carried on, at a steady 70. He stuck about 200 yards behind us for the entire way to Portsmouth, like the bitch that I made him.
(, Fri 13 Oct 2006, 16:11, Reply)

« Go Back

Pages: Latest, 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, ... 1