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Driving Me Bonkers Columnist Debbie Hulme reveals what makes her scream “aaargh” on the roads.
swing in to the right between 2 cars. The one behind me has to brake to let me in, as do I.
What is it about the N-340 that turns ordinary people into irate people who swap their brain for that of a deranged rally driver the moment they turn on to the slip road?
Mr tailgater races past me, grinning at his ingenious little trick. I see the size of his brain reflected in his wing mirror as he whooshes by. I’ve seen bigger peas. I raise one finger and twizzle it, a picking-your-nose motion, if you like.
When I rule the world, I will have a car with a big corkscrew sticking out of the back, and I’ll bore big holes in the bonnet of anyone who dares to drive up my bum. The purpose of tailgating is to frighten the person in front. Driving up someone’s rear end does not, I repeat NOT, make them go faster, nor immediately change lanes. Instead, they feel panicked and grip the wheel, staring resolutely ahead, paralysed with fright. This prevents them from using the indicators, checking other lanes they might want to move into, nor to manoeuvre safely out of the loony’s way. Take this example; there I am whizzing along in the outside lane at 120 km/h. Quite fast enough. And in the inside lane everyone is doing about 70. Suddenly a big black car zooms up my backside, so close I think he’s going to hit me. My knuckles go white and I stare right ahead. A teeny glance to the right shows me that I can’t swerve in, as there is slow moving traffic in my way. I can’t go faster because the road’s too bendy. I glance in the mirror to see this prat shaking his fist. I ignore him. Finally I see a tiny gap and
Mr I’m In Such A Hurry Move Out Of My Way has stopped being in a hurry. He brakes sharply and reduces his speed to 65. He pulls in front of me and waves energetically, pointing at the next exit and suggesting politely that I use it. So I slow down even more. He’s now doing 50. He wasn’t in a rush at all, the big liar. so driving After slowly that a tractor beeps at me, I finally escape by indicating right. He notices and follows suit, swinging off the road to take an interesting trip round the campo, as I’ve accidentally on purpose chosen an exit that’s not a cambio de sentido. Whoops. Have a nice day Mr, I think as I continue driving past the exit. The moral of the story is this. If you are a tailgater, your stupid scary driving style will probably increase your journey time, because people are too scared to get out your way. However, never fear, because chances are you aren’t in a hurry in any case. And if you are, well you should’ve got up earlier. Debbie Hulme
Published on Jul 27, 2011