Ste T.
Guru
Yesterday, my 3ft habit saved my skin.
I was coming off a local roundabout onto a single lane each way road . The traffic lane narrowed as they always do, as they come away from a roundabout and I was where I always am, 3ft from the kerb in secondary.
There was a line of cars coming the other way slowing down approaching the roundabout. Now I know from experience on this road that if I went any further in I would be overtaken at high speed with inches to spare so I stayed where I was, doing about 20mph.
Along comes a 4x4 and starts to overtake me as the lane narrows, so what does he do when he sees that he has misjudged the narrowing gap?
1 Brake and pull back until there are no cars coming the other way?
2 Try to squeeze past me at 22mph?
No prizes for guessing the right answer. He physically forced me across to the left and into the gutter. As he started coming across I looked at him and he was driving with his arms locked straight out and his head tilted back and looking like he was clenching his buttocks. To be honest I think he was shitting himself as much as me.The impression I got was the look on Steve Martins face in Trains,Planes and Automobiles when he's squeezing between the two oncoming lorries. What made it all the more bizarre was the slight difference between our speeds. It was like he was on autopilot and couldn't stop himself from doing it.
I went to bang on his panel but miss timed it and hit his wing mirror with my fist as it went past, forcing it back and breaking the glass.
He passed me and I managed to stay upright ( just) . I saw him looking in his rear view mirror with his eyes out on stalks. I was giving him the old "you thick bastard" sign ( forefinger jabbing my head ) expecting him to pull over but instead he accelerated away. I should have got his number, but I was too busy listening to a little voice in my head saying "shoot I've broken his mirror" and I didn't think quickly enough.
So, the old 3ft habit came to the rescue. If I hadn't had it to spare I would have been off, and possibly under his back wheels.
That’s eight lives to go then. Pip Pip :¬)
I was coming off a local roundabout onto a single lane each way road . The traffic lane narrowed as they always do, as they come away from a roundabout and I was where I always am, 3ft from the kerb in secondary.
There was a line of cars coming the other way slowing down approaching the roundabout. Now I know from experience on this road that if I went any further in I would be overtaken at high speed with inches to spare so I stayed where I was, doing about 20mph.
Along comes a 4x4 and starts to overtake me as the lane narrows, so what does he do when he sees that he has misjudged the narrowing gap?
1 Brake and pull back until there are no cars coming the other way?
2 Try to squeeze past me at 22mph?
No prizes for guessing the right answer. He physically forced me across to the left and into the gutter. As he started coming across I looked at him and he was driving with his arms locked straight out and his head tilted back and looking like he was clenching his buttocks. To be honest I think he was shitting himself as much as me.The impression I got was the look on Steve Martins face in Trains,Planes and Automobiles when he's squeezing between the two oncoming lorries. What made it all the more bizarre was the slight difference between our speeds. It was like he was on autopilot and couldn't stop himself from doing it.
I went to bang on his panel but miss timed it and hit his wing mirror with my fist as it went past, forcing it back and breaking the glass.
He passed me and I managed to stay upright ( just) . I saw him looking in his rear view mirror with his eyes out on stalks. I was giving him the old "you thick bastard" sign ( forefinger jabbing my head ) expecting him to pull over but instead he accelerated away. I should have got his number, but I was too busy listening to a little voice in my head saying "shoot I've broken his mirror" and I didn't think quickly enough.
So, the old 3ft habit came to the rescue. If I hadn't had it to spare I would have been off, and possibly under his back wheels.
That’s eight lives to go then. Pip Pip :¬)