Sitting at the traffic lights and I seen the lorry waiting to turn right up ahead. I also knew the cars to my right would try and accelerate away from the lights to try and dive in front of me to avoid being stuck behind said lorry.
I knew I had no chance of accelerating enough to beat the Audi next to me, but rather than trundle along like Driving Miss Daisy, I’d try and get up to speed quick enough to not let anyone else cut in front of me. You know, just for a laugh.
Bruumm Brruuumm….(that’s the sound of an engine revving, in case anybody isn’t sure…*cough*).
A BMW did manage to get in front of me, in the right hand lane, but given the time and space continuum between the lights and lorry, he had no chance of cutting in. He made a slight turn to try and make it, so I beeped my horn to make sure he knew I was there. Luckily he braked and got stuck behind the lorry. I chuckled.
A mile up the road, at the next set of traffic lights, I seen the same BMW catch up and stopping behind me I expected a two fingered salute or an angry fist shake. Instead he got out of his car and approached me. He was quite large too. For fucks sake.
"What did you beep me for?" he said.
"You were about to cut me up, so I beeped to let you know I was there" said I.
"But I didn’t did I?……..So what did you beep me for?"
"’Cos you were about to cut in…"
"I didn’t though, so why did you beep me?"
This could’ve gone on all night, but what the fuck? This guy was angry. Not only angry, but wound up and pissed off enough to get out of his car and confront me at traffic lights…because I beeped my car horn? Surely not.
His body language told me he wanted to fight. His body size also told me he was big enough to kick seven shades of shit out of me. My arse was already twitching and I was sure I’d get my head kicked in, but I was ready to get out if he tried to do something to my car. Already resigned to the fact that I was about to be an official statistic of ‘Road Rage’, I was also about to become the proud owner of a pulped face.
Still with an angry head on and with me looking at him, he piped up and said "Wind your window down a bit more"
‘hahahaha yeh right, as if I’m going to do that. I have a few more brain cells than you, knobhead’. Was what I didn’t have the balls to say to his face.
Instead I just looked at him and replied "No".
Another stare-out. He’s gonna kick off now, here we go.
And that’s when it happened…
…he called me a "prick” and walked back to his car. That was that.
I mean, what the fuck was all that about? I started laughing whilst simultaneously unclenching my arse cheeks and continued singing along (badly) to Mumford & Sons.
If you’re pissed off enough to confront someone at traffic lights at least do something. Don’t walk away like a pleb.
Release that anger and frustration by kicking their wing mirror off the car, throw a boot into the door and dent it a few times. At the very least open the car door and throw a few punches or try and drag the driver out and kick seven shades of shit out of him. If your still fuming, go and get a wrench from your car and, starting with the lights, smash every single one of them. Then put a window or two through and finish off by shattering the windscreen.
That’s what I’d do. But I’m not an angry headed BMW driving tool.