Sunday Driving

Well what started out as a quick blast around the local roads to stave off Sunday afternoon boredom turned into a marathon motorway trip up the M1 and down the A1 cutting across several roads in between, certainly the strangest Sunday excursion we’ve had for a while, but I can’t complain it did get us out of the house; although something tells me that we’re not going to be able to think of a reason why that trip should get 40p per mile off the company, our poor car having only just had it’s engine rebuilt from the ground-up is certainly getting a hammering, and doubtless will either end it’s days being run into the ground by the company or possibly if he ever gets his act together and learns to drive will be sold to my brother: who without a doubt would be easy pickings for the car-selling vultures circling above.

The one bonus about our workhorse of a car is it bears a striking resemblance both in model and colour to most Police districts favourite motorway undercover vehicle, so when a tit under-takes you at 100mph (no I’m not kidding…) and then floors it every time you try to overtake… well, let’s just say you can have some fun: for no reason other than necessity we were following him, and it was obvious that we’d have to do over a tonne to get past the stupid fucker, so Dave decided to sit squarely behind him; we weren’t close to him, but we resolutely weren’t going to pass him, and as fate would have it we were travelling in exactly the same direction of him, he must have seen this and the miraculously started to abide the speed limits, going 10mph slower than he needed to, and he started to indicate too… until we finally indicated to pull off at our exit, at which point he did the same, pulling onto the hard shoulder thinking we were going to book him… at which point much hilarity ensued in our car as we simply passed him leaving the poor bloke probably shitting himself thinking he’s been caught by some undercover unit…

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