I don’t like being on the road. If I can, I walk from A to B, because I know that the people with whom I share the pavement have far more control of direction and better grasp of spatial awareness those with which I share the tarmac.
This is another reason why I love my scooter; Its size and manoeuvrability keep me safe from the poorly driven cars, vans and trucks that stalk the land between my home and place of employment.
No, a scooter doesn’t have a roll-cage, air-bags or cup-holders and yes, if I did get hit (god forbid) I would most likely be transported to the morgue in a jar, but if I can see trouble; with a scooter I can avoid it.
If I see it.
Riding home yesterday I was almost force-fed an off-roader as it emerged, with speed, from a concealed dirt track onto the road.
Had I been on 4 wheels rather than 2, the entire passenger side of the car would have ended up wedged between the opposing vehicle’s absurdly shiny chrome bull-bars and its radiator.
Which would have been annoying.
I don’t trust or like other road users much, but there are certain drivers that I hold a particular fear and loathing of: those that travel in clean Land Rovers.
Like the one that jumped out from behind a hedge and made me poo a little.
I specify clean because dirty Land Rovers (or any other type of off-road vehicle) have a different breed of driver at the wheel.
If the chasse of the machine is encrusted with mud, cow manure and the rotting remains of small (but slow) woodland animals, it’s a sign that it’s used for its intended purpose, and used regularly.
Therefore, the driver knows how to use it and not kill people.
The drivers of clean Land Rovers are the exact opposite. They don’t know how large their vehicle is, they don’t know how much power is under the bonnet and they don’t care if they hit anything smaller than them as they’re well aware that both they and the over-priced Marks & Spencer food they just popped out to buy will survive the impact without a scratch.
A clean Land Rover is naught but a status symbol. Forget super cars; for men, off-roaders are true extensions of the Magic Love Truncheon, and for women, they scream “I am Queen Bee! Get the fek out of my way!”
You could only get more obvious if you stuck your head out the window and shouted “Look! Look how BIG I am!”
Such individuals should not be allowed on the roads at all, let alone be given charge of a turbo-charged tonnage of metal to throw around the countryside.
Are you one of these people?
Are you a potential agent of Death?
Are you a git?
A simple test will give you an answer: Go outside. Look at your Land Rover. Is it dirty from a day at work? If not; you don’t need it, and neither do the poor souls you share the road with.
Get a smaller car, you poser.
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12 comments:
Hear, Hear.
I used to work in Richmond, now anyone who lives in Richmond will know that the roads there-abouts are not particularily wide, and yet some (insert relevant cuss) decides that it's exactly the kind of road to drive a Humvee around on. It barely fits in one lane. I worked in a place called London House which looked out across to the Sainsburys in North Sheen, I saw the idiot go down there once, he actually mounted the pavement to get around the corner into the parking space.
Have you noticed how many of these horrors are driven by women transporting a (usually fat) kid to school. They don't actually need that size of vehicle but I guess it's simply a case of 'look at me and see what I can afford to drive'.
I was coming back from my cousins house in Barford and was coming onto the Thelwall Viaduct when an arsehole driving a Range Rover and towing a trailer swept up from the slip road into the first lane and then kept going into the second lane, which at the time I was occupying. Luckily there was no one int he outside lane or I would have been taken home in a bucket.
The guy never signalled or looked he just decided that was the lane he wanted to be in and went for it.
I have to say it was one of the cleanest, shiniest vehicles I have ever seen outside of a showroom. This registered even as my life was passing before my eyes.
it's not my fault! I was gifted with a 95 jeep cherokee (in rather crappy condition I should mention)
but I console myself with the fact that it has yet to see a carwash, and is thoroughly dirty. but mostly with road dust and sand. have to say that 4wD is nice on the icy roads (horrible ice storms where I live)
I know what you mean, i have an Aunt that buys a new one every few years or so, been though she has no need for it, she has it "just because it is in fashion right now."
I personally live close enough to work to ride a mongoose bicycle.
and on the weekends, that thing is anything but clean.
Another problem is people with pick-up trucks who never haul anything.
Sounds like there are a great deal of near misses amongst you lot.
sorry to all, i drive a GMC Sierra 3500 Dooley puckup, and damn if that thing isnt huge. but i make sure to keep out of peoples way and so far the only close call i had was from a tiny honda that tried to change lanes into me without looking.
but im trying to get an apartment within walking distance to my job, so i can leave that beast parked!
Hear, Hear Indeed.
My family owns a Land Rover Discovery, but it's caked in mud. It regularly tows a horse trailer, or a flatbed trailer full of random junk around rural Aberdeenshire.
Shiny 4x4s in towns are POINTLESS.
This also made me miss the old battered 1975 Land Rover Series 3 we had. I was insured on that, but not on the discovery, as the discovery's too new and expensive for me (lol).
Hell, badly driven shiny 4x4s are scarey even from a car! I regularly have near misses in my punto...
Sadly, I can tell you that the problem is just as bad "over the pond' in the United States of America. "Oh, I'm a soccer Mom, I need a big car to go to my hair appointment." The Hummer H2 truely was the point where people realized they were going over-board.
I drive a 4-door sedan because they're easy to find, easy on gas milage, and cheap to insure. I suppose I could go for something smaller, but as the saying goes, the cows out number the people 'round these parts. I'm 15 minutes from pretty much everything except the necessities. Groceries, mail, pharmacist.
I actually did try to argue SUVs with someone absolutely devoted to driving his Ford Explorer. The usual "Ford Exploder" joke worked in with Firestone tires. But the arguement he fell back on was that he's "so much safer in the snow with his Explorer." And four tires under power, all of which can spin because they're drive wheels. And his higher center of gravity. And his reduced feel for road conditions. And his increased mass when trying to stop. Needless to say, I've prefered both my sedans so far.
I could never convince him otherwise, but he wasn't exactly the brightest bulb. Last I heard was some nasty rumor about private investigators and disability for a bad back getting pictures of him on a snowmobile...
I drive by a hummer dealership on my way to work. It went belly up earlier this year. Driving by it in my little hatch back makes brings a little smile to my face :)
I agree, living in Cyprus is even worse since nobody seems to have any idea how to drive and all the posing Greeks love to drive round in Porsche 4x4s and those big shiny Audis... wearing their over sized sunglasses, talking on their mobile with a frappachino in the cup holder and their eyes scoping out the women on the pavement as opposed to the other individuals on the road... Asshats
I have posted similar moans about giant road-straddling behemoths. The worst by far are those with names like "Warrior" and "Beast". Which translate as "taking tiny infant to nursery before spending the day at the gym" and "tiny willy". Indeed.
Tasty blog JJ!
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