Thursday, 3 January 2008

I hate tailgaters

I hate pricks that get so close to your tailend that their number plates disappear from view. By the time I pulled the camera out and snapped this photo, the driver had actually pulled back somewhat, but cameras make idiots seem to be further away than they actually are.



There we are, out in the country with the cruise control set on 100, and dingbat decides to attempt to connect their roo bar to my tow ball. The road is flat and straight and devoid of double white lines (see earlier post featuring GPS shot of the road in question) and the only things in view out the front are squashed foxes, dead roos and the odd galah eating spilled grain on the side of the road.

Mr Retard decides that instead of overtaking, he'll sit on my arse for 10 km or so. I reckoned that if I put my foot down and tried to loose him, he'd just speed up and get even closer, so I shook him off by disengaging the cruise control and slowing down.....and down.....and down until the fucking clownfish finally got the message and overtook me when I was doing about 70.

Turned out that the fuckwad was fiddling with his mobile phone - possibly trying to send a text - in an area where my phone gets no signal, even with a car kit. Just what I needed - a tailgating texter.

Morons like this seemed to abound over the Christmas break. Some appear to get right up your arse with the aim of making you go faster. Now if I was driving a Mini and a cement truck was tailgating me, I'd be speeding up. But I'm driving a tall, lumpen 4WD, and I don't give a shit if someone in a low slung boy racer with enormous front and rear spoilers and a number plate like XCCENTU8 gets too close to my tail. One nudge of my brakes and the road will be littered with fibreglass that used to be shaped as a spoiler. Hence my refusal to remove my towball, even when not in use.

The best way to lose them is to just slow down. If they want to go fast and wrap themselves around a power pole, you won't find me getting in their way. I'll just slow down to a grannie like pace that will force them to go around. Of course I always do that in the hope that a radar trap is just around the corner.

But screw them. Just because they want to go faster, doesn't mean I have to break the speed limit as well to satisfy their juvenile need to get to the next KFC 30 seconds faster. I wonder if I can still get the car registered if I have a rear facing flame thrower?

1 comment:

saintbumper said...

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