Friday 26 August 2011

Overreaction: forecourt rage

Yesterday I was in the car with my mum and we stopped to get petrol. And this isn't quite such a boring story is the opening sentence sounds. We'd pulled up on the wrong side of the pump, so we reversed out and went to the other side. Now I'll admit that we might have been a bit less considerate than we could have (I'll also freely admit that it wasn't me driving): there was another car, still behind us, about to pull into the space we ended up in. He did have to put his brakes on. Perhaps the generous thing would have been to let him go first. But.
He got out of his car and started insisting that we'd 'put his children's lives in danger' - we'd both been moving at less than five mph - then he got back in and drove right up to our bumper and tried to stop us using the pump. He eventually went to a different pump, after we'd threatened to call the police.
He said he was going to report us for dangerous driving. I don't know what he planned to say: 'This woman shouldn't be on the road.' 'And why's that?' 'I nearly drove into the back of her.' Then he made a big show of photographing our car and writing down the number, then he tried to photograph us.
For once, I thought of the right response at the right time: I posed for the camera with a huge cheesy grin, and I wish I'd had a camera myself because his face was a picture. I thought there was nothing better I could do than show him just how ridiculous I thought he was.

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