Driving along Glasgow Road, doing exactly 30 mph, a red Clio came up behind, and the body language of the car, never mind the driver, was impatient, aggressive, that kind of worldview where any other driver on the road is an inconvenience, a nuisance, a hindrance. So out the car shot to overtake me, and I prayed for the driver, not the charitable bless her anyway Lord, kind of prayer. I prayed that as she overtook and went round the corner at well over 40 mph she would encounter the mobile Speed camera van and I would then smile in self righteous satisfaction without a twinge of guilt. But no! As she cut in front of me I could see there was no divine, or police retribution.
But then. Just along the road were the roadworks, and the closed lanes, restricted access, and the temporary traffic lights with their long phased sequence. So I drew up behind the driver, and watched in amusement as she, (yes afraid this time it was a she), remonstrated at the traffic light, shook her head, looked at her watch, clearly enjoyed having a rant with herself as audience in the front row. But as I watched these histrionics and the head still bobbing up and down as the rant showed no sign of concluding, I noticed the Churchill Insurance dog, sitting on the back shelf of her car. And its head was moving slowly from side to side, in what I decided to believe was slow head-shaking disapproval, acute canine embarrassment at the irrational impatience and pointless annoyance of human beings behind a wheel. The spectacle of one vigorously tossing head asserting to the world how in the right she was, and one slowly indicating that the world took a different view.
So I prayed again. That this angry-in-a-hurry driver would arrive where she was going safely, and without screwing up someone else’s life by causing an accident. Made me wonder if there might be a case for an anger breathalyser – to catch those who drive like the unconverted Saul of Tarsus, breathing our fire and slaughter against anyone who gets in their way.
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