Okay, don’t get me wrong, I’m doing okay, but lately I’d been feeling that there was something missing in my life. I’d noticed those world leaders (you all know them) who seem to be extremely rich and who seem to do exactly as they please. No one seems to be able to stop them. Compared to them, my existence seemed to go by pretty well unnoticed. Often when I spoke, people weren’t really listening. I just didn’t seem to be making an impact. I was sitting in a bar one day and, by chance, I met a guy whose name was Bob Adil. Hey, that name reminded me of a word in the English language that is spelt the same but doesn’t have a space in the middle. I can’t recall what it means. Anyway, we got talking. A few wines opened me up a bit and I started telling him about how I felt. He listened reasonably intently and then he said, “Yeah, I’ve been there, but I know how to fix your problems. You need a ute, a big black one.”
I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but I listened. He talked on quite a bit and, among the other stuff, I remember him saying, “No one messes with a guy in a big black ute!”
He told me that, if you want to be ‘the man’ you need to have power over other people. They need to be a bit scared of you. Then he carried on, “Look at how most people drive in this country. There don’t seem to be many cops around. People drive fast. The speed limit for trucks is 90kph, but do you see them sticking to it? Drive down any highway at 100kph. There’ll be lots of people passing you. Driving fast is a great way to look cool. People will try to pass each other but, take my word for it, no one messes with a big black ute!”
Then he told me about those slow drivers, like I had always been, who stutter along at 80 or 90kph. “Get right up their arse!” he told me, “Those wankers shouldn’t be driving on a highway! Haven’t they seen those 100kph signs?” I tried to interject by saying that 100kph was the speed limit, not how fast you need to go, but he just laughed. “Get a big black ute,” he interrupted, “and I will teach you.”
I had a bit of savings and was able to use hire purchase to acquire a big black ute. They’re not cheap. True to his word, he gave me lessons. He showed me how to speed up the Wainuiomata hill road, even on a stormy day, to show everyone else who was the boss around here. It was true, no one except for the odd truck, wanted to take on that big black ute!
Now I feel empowered. I spend a lot of time driving and a lot of time driving very close to anyone who is silly enough to be on the road in front of me. Hey, I can tell that those slower drivers know that I am the boss!
If you use our roads, I am the guy behind you who is important, and in a hurry, so FFS move over or get off the bloody road!
I haven’t seen much evidence that speeding and aggressive driving do any real harm. If it did, people would all be taking buses and trains.
3 commenti:
I think you are right.
In two days of driving from the top of the north island to Wellington I only encountered five bad drivers who undertook dangerous over taking manoeuvres, drove at excessive speed and tailgated. Three of these though
drove big black utes. One cunt nearly clipped me as he undercut me and came back in just to get in front of me as I’d been leaving a safe gap between me and the car in front of me. We were all going at 100 kph in a long line of traffic. Mr speedy stayed just in front of me, unable to get past the guys in front for about 30 ks until a passing lane came up. Idiot!
Another idiot did the classic and left overtaking in an overtaking lane until the last minute as the lane was running out. I watched him in my side mirror and knew what he was going to do but refused to be pushed off the road and so held my line so that the dimwit had to, to get past me, go over to the other side of the road. I sounded the horn at him* and gave him the finger. Believe it or not I was playing safe as, if I moved left, travelling at 100 ks plus, if I’d hit gravel it would all have been over.
The third big black Ute bastard, on the desert road on corners where white ice was evident at the edge of the road necessitating slowing a bit for the corners - and not being able to see the black ice - travelled dangerously close behind me. When we’d got through the corners, on some straight bit where there was a slow bay I kept left let him pass. Note, in the slow bay I was still doing 100 is.
I was really ( unchristian I know) hoping to see him in a ditch further along the road.
What’s wrong with thes goons?
* I don’t often use the horn as, instead of a nice and satisfying growl it just manages a silly little peep peep peep sound.
Good stuff, but what is '100 is'?
"What’s wrong with thes goons?" Could Lynn do some proofreading?
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