It was about 6am and I was on the way for my pre-work gym session and I was in a 30 zone doing 30 when a brown Renault Espace came racing up to the back of me.
I, considerately (I thought anyway), sped up to 40 to hold him up a little less.
He continued to tail-gate me for about a minute before he started driving mostly on the wrong side of the road, looking to pass before he eventually did.
As he pulled back in front of me, he come mighty close to the front of my car and braked. I had already slowed down to around 30 by this point.
Angry and confused, mostly confused, I worded “w*nker” when he looked back in his rear view mirror at me.
He sped off, that was that.
Then, about 1 minute down the road, I find him sitting at an empty roundabout with his car at an angle, blocking the road.
I drive up the back of him and he gives me the w*nker hand gesture.
I do it back – he was – so sue me haha.
His next move was to get out of his car, stand in the road, and make arm gestures as if he wanted to fight me.
What... the... hell?!
He must have been around 50 years old and about 16-20 stone of fat so if I were the fighting type, he probably wouldn't have been able to hit me.
I sat there for a second and contemplated my options.
It was either:
1. Talk to the cave man through the window of my car – but I thought he could end up hitting it.
2. Get out of the car and speak to the cave man, risking a punch on the nose.
3. Drive off.
I took the third option, shook my head made a “you're an idiot face” and went around him, and the wrong way around a roundabout, as he left me no choice on route.
So, to summarise so far, he was in such a rush he nearly nailed me, yet found the time to wait for me, get out of his car and offer to fight me. I'm guessing he had found so much time from his Vettel style pass that he saved enough time to factor in a good fight and any pre-fight banter.
Anyway, I'm 5 minutes away, driving down a 50 at about 55 before he comes steaming up the back of me again. Seriously, he must of broke a tonne to catch me like he did.
This time, I slowed right down without breaking to about 40mph and let him pass.
He did the same again – swung in and braked hard whilst waving his hands before speeding off.
This was 6am.
6am!!!
What an absolute bell end. I've never experienced anything like that before. It's like something from TV. It all feels so surreal in retrospect and as it was happening, everything moved so quickly.
There are some right knobs on the road, but he's my favourite so far.
Apologies for any typos/bad English, I'm still a tad worked up.
Thought it was worth sharing.
I, considerately (I thought anyway), sped up to 40 to hold him up a little less.
He continued to tail-gate me for about a minute before he started driving mostly on the wrong side of the road, looking to pass before he eventually did.
As he pulled back in front of me, he come mighty close to the front of my car and braked. I had already slowed down to around 30 by this point.
Angry and confused, mostly confused, I worded “w*nker” when he looked back in his rear view mirror at me.
He sped off, that was that.
Then, about 1 minute down the road, I find him sitting at an empty roundabout with his car at an angle, blocking the road.
I drive up the back of him and he gives me the w*nker hand gesture.
I do it back – he was – so sue me haha.
His next move was to get out of his car, stand in the road, and make arm gestures as if he wanted to fight me.
What... the... hell?!
He must have been around 50 years old and about 16-20 stone of fat so if I were the fighting type, he probably wouldn't have been able to hit me.
I sat there for a second and contemplated my options.
It was either:
1. Talk to the cave man through the window of my car – but I thought he could end up hitting it.
2. Get out of the car and speak to the cave man, risking a punch on the nose.
3. Drive off.
I took the third option, shook my head made a “you're an idiot face” and went around him, and the wrong way around a roundabout, as he left me no choice on route.
So, to summarise so far, he was in such a rush he nearly nailed me, yet found the time to wait for me, get out of his car and offer to fight me. I'm guessing he had found so much time from his Vettel style pass that he saved enough time to factor in a good fight and any pre-fight banter.
Anyway, I'm 5 minutes away, driving down a 50 at about 55 before he comes steaming up the back of me again. Seriously, he must of broke a tonne to catch me like he did.
This time, I slowed right down without breaking to about 40mph and let him pass.
He did the same again – swung in and braked hard whilst waving his hands before speeding off.
This was 6am.
6am!!!
What an absolute bell end. I've never experienced anything like that before. It's like something from TV. It all feels so surreal in retrospect and as it was happening, everything moved so quickly.
There are some right knobs on the road, but he's my favourite so far.
Apologies for any typos/bad English, I'm still a tad worked up.
Thought it was worth sharing.
