There’s no crappier a start to a day than when you’re running late, you bend down to get something from the floor and then suddenly you hear a Riiiiiiiiip. One set of trousers ruined, a breeze running past your nether regions and a stomach dropping realisation that all your other trousers are in the wash.
That’s how my morning started, and so if you saw a guy wearing a smart white shirt and black tracksuit bottoms walking to work through Chelmsford this morning then yes, that was me, and that was why. Fortunately there is a Tesco store a short drive away and so I managed to buy a new pair of trousers by 9am, which I am currently wearing. This would be fine had I not been convinced that I had a 34″ waist rather than a 36″ waist, but as it now stands I have the worlds tightest trousers on. A bargain for £14…
As I drove to Tesco I approached the Army and Navy which is the big, traffic-heavy roundabout leading to town. Traffic was coming thick and fast and I seemed to be stuck at the junction with no-one letting me out. Rather than wait sensibly I chose to do the Essex Boy thing and put my foot down when I saw a particularly slow-approaching lorry. I’d checked the road, knew what my car was capable of (albeit not much) and pulled out, making sure I stuck to the very outer lane of the roundabout to avoid causing any possible problems for either the motorcyclist I’d seen approaching, or for the blue HGV that was chugging it’s way around.
As I pulled off at the second exit the motorcyclist came level with my car, turned his head and gave me a wanker sign. Great. I pointed to my eyes and then at him: “I saw you!” I said, trying my best in the couple of seconds I had to let him know that I may have been driving like a cock, but at least I’d seen him and even gone out of my way to avoid causing him to slow down.
Rather than understanding my side, he muttered something under his helmet, moved his hand from the “coffee bean shake” to a proper two finger salute.
I reflected slightly, thinking that he had a right. Roads are dangerous at the best of times, but more so when you are on a bike. All it takes is a moment of uncertainty, a slight blind spot or something beyond the control of the guy on the bike and it could have a serious effect on him. He was right to be upset, especially given that he was driving in a controlled and safe manner.
No sooner had I reflected on this, the biker finished his sweary montage, turned his head forward and raced off at (I would estimate) about 60mph, ducking in and out of the traffic without a care for anyone else.
The moral of the story: It’s fine to put yourself at extreme danger, but if anyone else dares to cause you to break, you have every reason to get really upset.