Old Age Road Rage

Sometimes it can be hard work trying to think of something to write.

I don't have that 'tick-tock' kind of mind that can, at the drop of a hat and with little inspiration,  rattle off something that will interest or amuse those unfortunate enough to actually land on my blog.

(As an aside, I was view my stats and checking out exactly where my 'readers' were coming from, I was slightly embarrassed to find that quite a number visited me via a ladies underwear page ... which, by the way, had a great range in see-through nightwear, knickers resembling tissues and push-up bra's that could make a woman look as if she were sporting a matching pair of goitres.)

I take my inspiration, as advised so long ago by several readers, from my surroundings and from my daily encounters with lesser mortals or from my family and dogs.

Today, whilst driving home after having just completed a shopping expedition which, thankfully, did not burn a hole in my pocket, I encountered the demon driver form Hell.

As I drove along, minding my own business, an oncoming car pulled across my lane.  I slammed on the brakes and liberally coated the road surface with rubber!

I stopped so abruptly that my naked troll-angel good luck charm broke free from it's fastening, bounced off the windscreen and flew back, hitting me square between the eyes.

I fumed, as you would imaging, and was ready for a spot of road rage!

As I stared daggers at the driver of the other vehicle my inner savage beast was calmed as I saw, almost hidden behind the steering wheel of her car, a tiny blue-haired and bespectacled old lady looking back at me.

She had stopped diagonally across my lane in shock, or so I thought!

Appearances can be deceptive and when what I thought was a harmless and remorseful old lady got out of her car, I learned just how deceptive they could be.

"Didn't you f*&king see me indicating, you idiot?"

I was struck dumb.

I expected to have to turn on the sympathy for a shocked old dear, but instead I was harangued!

I tried to diplomatically explain that indicating her direction of travel does not give her the right to turn across another lane unless said lane is clear.

"Don't you f*&king tell me how to f*&ing drive! I've been f*&ing driving since before you were f*&ing born!".  She was on the verge of hitting me with her handbag.

My experience of old ladies told me that after the rant would come the flood of tears followed by a  requirement for some kind words and comfort.

But this old bird hadn't read the 'Grannies Handbook'!

She questioned my parentage!!!

She used her forefinger as a weapon, jabbing me in the shoulder several times.

She was only 5 foot tall if she was an inch, so she had to stretch.

And I stood there, dumbfounded, and took it!

I didn't know what else to do short of giving her a knuckle sandwich!

Traffic was building up behind my car at this point but she continued to rant.

"You could have f*&ing killed me! Do you hate old people? Do you?"

A man from the car directly behind me joined the fray.

He explained, as I had, the rules of the road pertaining to crossing over the on-coming traffic lane.

"Oh!" she said.

She never bloody screamed at him! Why didn't she scream at him?

Anyway, placated somewhat, she returned to her car and started the engine.  But as I returned to my car I noticed her passenger window rolling down.

I saw her lean over and look out as she slowly moved away.

"Wan&er!"  she shouted and was gone.

I know, I know!  I should have written down her number and reported the daft old besom to the police ... but I was stunned!

She was in her late 80's ... maybe even in her 90's ... and she was ranting and blaming me for her mistake.

And all I wanted to do was a bit of shopping then enjoy the rest of my day off!

Mind you ... blog fodder is blog fodder however you find it!