Friday, seven p.m. Travelling along the A1(M) towards London, just about to go into Hatfield Tunnel. I'm doing about eighty, (fairly sedate for the A1(M)) in the middle lane, overtaking a car in the inside lane. A car comes up on the outside to overtake me. He's probably doing around eighty-five. Fair enough. I watch him pull ahead.
When he's about twenty-five yards ahead of me, a three-series BMW comes past me so fast I don't even notice him in the mirror before he's gone. He comes up behind the bloke who's just overtaken me, hurtles up to within a half a car-length of his back bumper, and has to brake so hard that there's a puff of smoke from the tyres before the ABS kicks in. He swerves into the middle lane ahead of me, floors the throttle, and he's gone. It's the most arrogant, aggressive and plain stupid piece of driving I've seen in thirty years on the road. Luckily the poor bastard who's just missed being tailgated at a hundred and thirty doesn't do anything dopey (in fact, he doesn't really have time.)
Even though I'm alone in the car, I go "Whoooh!" and do that shaky-head "I don't know..." thing. I look in the mirror just in case there's a police car in pursuit, but BMW-man's not being chased, he's just having fun. I drive on at a steady eighty, half-hoping to see the wrecked BMW in flames on the hard shoulder, but, sadly, no.
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Bugbear n. 1. A thing that causes obsessive anxiety. 2. (In English folklore) A goblin in the shape of a bear.
1 comment:
Every year I get the same kind of thing on I-75 south of St Louis. The speed limit there is 70 miles per hour but everyone goes 85. Car after car, mostly Cadilacs and Lincolns out of Chicago, whiz by like I'm parked.
It's always neat to see them down the road when they've been pulled over by a nice Missouri Highway Patrol officer.
LibertyBob
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