there I was, walking up a cobbled street in our local town, intent on
taking a dekko inside the recently refurbished Corn Exchange , now a
museum, bric a brac and cafe, at the top of the road. Cars are parked on
the right of this short, narrow `One Way` street and a builders van
isn't quite as close to the offside kerb as it could be.
suddenly hear an engine revving, rather hard, behind me. I turn around,
gingerly as my neck is still sore from my recent injuries, just in time
to see that well known curse of the motorcyclist.... a Volvo Estate
driven by a member of the `Blue Rinse Brigade`and, on this occasion, the
curse of the innocent pedestrian as well.
Deciding that the
gap is too narrow, she decides to mount the kerb and drive past on the
pavement, regardless of my presence, and forcing me to step smartly back
against the wall of a building so as to avoid a second `blues and
two's` run to A&E. (I am currently recovering from a rather nasty head injury - NOT motorcycle related I must stress). To add to getting her knickers in a twist by
having her path obstructed by a parked van, she now had a local oik (me)
having the temerity to be in her way on the footpath! To be doubly sure
she gets my dander up, she gives the car horn a good 2-second blast as
she passes me, pressed against the wall.
I shout a well known
English attention grabber at her, "Oi"! She stops and down comes her
window. I say, "thanks for making me jump twice, once for my life and
once because of your totally inappropriate and deafening horn-sounding".
In an annoying Thatcheresque grating, accent she says, `Well that car
was badly parked and I couldn't get by". To which, said oik replies, "So
why make your problem MY problem by driving on the footpath forcing a
pedestrian to take avoiding action"? "She glares at me, like I'm a
Richard she's just stepped in".
I have a fair command of
English and a well stocked armoury of Anglo Saxon terms of abuse and
despite a huge list to choose from, somehow my Automatic Tactical
Manouevers And Defensive Audio Selection System (AT-MADASS) decided on
the following three words: "You HORRID woman". Judging from the
defence suite's Abuse Review Scrutiny System (ARSS), it was a good hit.
Two women from the Corn Exchange cafe who had come out onto the steps to
find out what the hooting and shouting was about, clapped their hands.
I expect the foul bint has reported me to the police, hoping I will be