Big box, little box, big box, little box.

It will come as no surprise to learn that using the public highways, in all their glorious forms, gives rise to an incredible amount of potential rage. Almost all the users of said roads are clearly out to cause as much outrage as is humanly possible during their pointless journeys. This is especially true of the ones that are on trips to drop their darling little Tarquins and Tabithas off at their local prep schools in cars so big I’m surprised they can even see whether the kid is sat in it or not such is the distance from window to seat.

Why, this very mornings I encountered just such a person, sat high up in her stupid chav tractor sneering at the world below whilst sweeping to her little darling through the scum filled streets as fast as possible. Whilst passing though a junction an outrage occurred to her life, there was some traffic impeding her path, what to do, what to do! I imagine a look of horror and disgust sweeping over her face as she realised that a bunch of plebs were holding her up for a few seconds. She could have waited of course, like everyone else, at the right place. Alternatively she could assume that she’s better than the rest of the world and just park in the middle of the bloody junction, despite the glaring yellow boxes indicating that this is not permissible, so as not to be further held up the pesky traffic lights.

Often I wouldn’t really give a flying hoot about such selfish behaviour, only on this day, at this time, I was trying to go through said junction in the perpendicular direction to her. Was I able to? Was I buggery, she’d blocked the whole fucking junction off with her stupidly enormous car/lorry hybrid causing me to almost fall off my bike. Now like all good rage filled individuals I attempted to attract her attention so I could mouth obscenities at her as she sat there flagrantly breaking the law, but what’s this, she refuses to look up. Glaring ever forward, no doubt aware that she’s in the wrong and avoiding any possible confrontation. It’s not hard to obey simple road instructions, big yellow boxes, don’t bloody stop on them.

I imagine when the hopefully inevitable fine wings it’s way to her, probably stone clad, abode she’ll be outraged at this “stealth tax” being imposed on her by the draconian motoring overlords. Good I say, don’t want to pay “stealth taxes” don’t bloody get in my way by blocking junctions. Next she’ll be moaning about not being allowed in a bus lane.

Also for the love of all that’s decent in the world, you do not have a bloody princess on board, you’re not the worlds best mum and you’re not driving “mummy’s taxi”, unless you are charging little Jasmica for these trips to school, which kind of invalidates the best mum claim… Sticking little notices in the window alluding to such dubious assertions is neither clever nor witty. The only reason I can think you might have one is to tell people not to crash into you as you have a child somewhere on the car. Only that, a) assumes that people make a choice of who to hit before they slam into another vehicle, and b) would actively encourage me to run you off the road for being stupid.

I bet if I could have been bothered to check you would have had some stupid personalised number plates too. Witch.

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One Response to Big box, little box, big box, little box.

  1. Comrade says:

    One of my biggest pet peeves is people who pull across intersections knowing full well that they can’t get out the other side, then the lights change, and they hold up both directions because now no-one can move. Such things should be punishable by death, and also a massive fine, which after their death will leave their family and children crippled with debt for life.

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