Monday 22 June 2009

slow down, you're moving too fast....

I had an early start this morning, leaving the house at a little after 5am to catch a flight to Edinburgh. After wrestling through the crowds of people flying out to Alicante, some enjoying their first pint of the day at 6am, I flew to the Scottish capital, took part in a workshop and then flew home. As I sat in my car on the short drive home, I was feeling distinctly weary and consciously decided to take things easy.

Considering that it is one of the major arterial routes from the motorway into town, the A453 into Nottingham is not a great piece of road. Apart from taking in the magnificent view over the Radcliffe-on-Soar power station, it is a winding road with a single lane on each side and just enough bends and dips to make overtaking hazardous. Not, of course, that this stops people from tanking past you on blind corners. I ended up sat behind a big lorry travelling at 40mph, but that was okay. I was only ten minutes from home and more or less exactly 36 hours away from my departure to the Glastonbury Festival. What's the rush?

After a bit, the lorry took the turn onto the A52, and I was left behind a little Fiat Panda that was travelling even slower. Again, not a problem. I listened to the announcement of the new speaker of the House of Commons and a discussion on some of the challenges he is likely to face, and thought about having pizza for my tea. I waited at the lights, turned past the chip shop and onto my street. There were a couple of people on the right hand side of our road, a student and her dad, I think, loading their car. I slowed a little to avoid a box that was sticking out slightly into the road, and gave them a slight mile as I went past them. No rush. No problem.

So imagine my surprise when I looked in my rearview mirror to see the student, feet planted widely apart in the middle of the road, somewhat pompously waving her arm up and down at me in a gesture intended to tell me to slow down. I actually double-taked. I was travelling at slightly less than 15mph, surely she couldn't be talking to me? There was no one else. I nearly stopped the car in the middle of the road to get out and tell her how fast I was travelling up the road. Does she know how fast most people drive around here? Has she seen the people ducking down the road to try and short-cut the queue at the traffic lights? Did she know how especially calmly I had been driving? Gah!

So much for taking things easy and having a relaxing evening. I am furious. In fact, I'm steaming. I think what makes me most angry of all is the self-righteous way that she stood in the road and gestured slowly and clearly, as though signalling to an aircraft coming in to land. How fucking dare she?

C. is telling me to let it go, but I've still half a mind to pop down the road and tell her what for. Given that I have just had a shower and I'm now wearing nothing but my Moroccan djellaba, I'm not sure this would be wise... I'd probably look something like Alex Guinness making his first appearance over the dunes in Star Wars.

....although on second thoughts, perhaps that would be no bad thing. [geek] The Jundland wastes are, after all, not to be travelled lightly [/geek].


  1. Calm down Victor (Meldrew) ;P


  2. Cool wet grass.

    *folds Swiss into complicated yoga posture*

  3. I love the juxtaposition of this post and your previous one entitled "and we cry when they all die blonde..... "


    I also love the fact that I was able to use the word "Juxtaposition"

    Have a great time in Glastonbury