Let us be clear. On your drive to work this morning you made 2,416 basic driver errors that resulted in you being called a “[pre-fix redacted] twat” and ensuring that at least 4 people were late for their work – costing the UK economy an estimated £4trillion.
How do I know this? Because I did exactly the same.
It’s not that we are all bad drivers; it’s just we all have an enormous amount of important stuff to do whilst we thunder through Britain’s green and pleasant at the helm of two tonnes of a thousand moving parts. It’s not like in old’un times when cars had three basic functions – go, stop and run over Buster Keaton. Nowadays before I’ve left my road, turned on the iPod connection, set the satnav, adjusted the seat position and called the office I’d have run over Buster Keaton many, many times. Poor Buster.
The problem with drivers is not a question of our ability to operate a motor vehicle but a question of our ability to remain the calm, considerate, cuddle junkies we are at home and not the wide-eyed, expletive-vomiting robotocunts we become when someone fails to signal at a roundabout (although they were clearly turning right – BUT THAT IS ONE AND A HALF SECONDS I’VE WASTED!).
Our outrage clouds our otherwise serene judgement. Our focus on the road is not whether or not we should consider the cyclist teetering on the edge of oblivion as you lick his bottom with your wing-mirror, but what a bell-end the guy behind is being driving so far up your arse you feel there should’ve at least have been a meal first. You are more consciously aware of your surroundings as you take your lawnmower over a particularly juicy slug than you are as you sail through a red light swerving to avoid that “[pre-fix redacted] twat” who jumped the lights coming the other way.
We all need to calm. The fuck. Down.
So, with all this in mind, who is the worst driver on the road? Well, I’ve been driving for over 20 years, in a variety of vehicles, at all times of the day and night at every time of the year. I know exactly who is the worst driver on the road. I bet you’re thinking it’s 4×4 School Run Mum with one child sharing seven seats? Or the white van man hauling his tacit racism and repressed homosexuality around all day getting angrier and balder by the hour? How about Mr Business adjusting his double-cuffs, picking his nose, ignoring his adultery and picking Ginsters crumbs out of the leather upholstery? Nope, none of these.
The worst driver is a category of driver that causes so many accidents they should immediately have their license revoked, bare-bottom spanked in the middle of Lidl and sent immediately to Azkaban. The Queen’s Highway’s worst driver is Single Headlight Working Guy.
Single Headlight Working Guy is so distracted with the machinations of his/her life and so ambivilant to the dangers of their ineptitude that they breeze around knowing full well they are Single Headlight Working Guy but do not give a shit. In a car crammed with Dorrito crumbs and discarded KFC containers they cruise up behind you detaching your retina with the solution to their problem. Which is not go to Halfords, spend seven quid on a new bulb and get it fitted FOR FREE! No, the solution is to put the remaining working headlight ON FULL BEAM! The fuckers know they are Single Headlight Working Guy and I bet you every penny in your penny jar they remain that way until the full beam solution stops working. Then they go to Halfords, replace the dead bulb. However, 14 seconds after leaving Halfords the old good bulb goes and they are Single Headlight Working Guy AGAIN! They really don’t give a fuck. I hate them.
There we go, now the nights are drawing in and we’re flicking on our headlights on the way home tonight, keep any eye out for these people. Be diligent, dip your rear-view before they blind you sending you into the bus in front and report them.
Drive safe. x