Tell us something really trivial about your life (vol 24)
Discussion
slopes said:
about seven and a half tonne bumper cars
One of the lads I knew in the getting-into-cars phase of my life was the best of all of us at getting the most out of a car. It came to him instinctively. The problem, however, was he was almost entirely irresponsible. One Saturday, four up in an 850 Mini, we came over the bridge at Blackwater Station on the A30 at speed (at the point where the road widened into four lanes by some shops) to be faced with a Sunbeam Alpine broadsides on to us trying to pull across the road to go the other way. Let's call our bloke Nink. Nink assessed the situation, didn't slow down and didn't move left to pass behind the Alpine but just aimed at the middle of it. The driver saw us and - as Nink intended - pulled away with wheels spinning to make a gap. It was very foolish and could have gone as horribly wrong as many of his stunts did. And you thought that was the irresponsible bit. With the Alpine out of the way we now found ourselves coming down fast on a zebra crossing with cars stopped in both lanes to allow a woman with umpteen shopping bags across. We were never going to stop. The crossing had an island in the middle; both lanes blocked going our way but only one car was stopped on the side facing us in anticipation of the woman crossing. As you know, if there is an island, you should treat it as two separate crossings. With the reactions of a racing driver, Nink swerved round the island to pass through the only gap available, the one on the wrong side of the road. We nearly took the shopping out of her hands as she, quite reasonably, was looking the other way. Events like this were weekly and sometimes daily. He would drive fast and well for ages, sometimes for whole journeys, but then something would set him off and you were an involuntary accessory to a maniacal race to mayhem. When he had wrecked his car or damaged it sufficiently to be off the road for a few weeks, he would use his dad's car. We thought we were the bee's knees in it; a two tone blue 1965 Triumph 2000. One evening we were travelling way too fast, none of us strapped in, towards a tee junction. Came round the last bend that had a little hump bridge at the apex. Into the left-hand bend, hit the hump, and with car pretty much airborne we found a line of cars queued right back to the bend. Quick as you like, Nink is again on the wrong side of the road, regaining control of a Triumph 2000 with five idiots aboard that is now skidding, wheels locked, past the queue for the tee junction. We arrive at the junction on the wrong side of the island still at speed just in time for a gap in the traffic which he turned into and we were away. The first time he damaged his dad's car, there was soul searching. The second time there was a threat of never being able to use it again. The third time he was absolutely gibbering.
So, of course, he decided to be a lorry driver and went for his HGV licence. He then went to work at a car auctions but was fired for seriously damaging a car transporter loaded with cars. It's worse than that. This was the third time he damaged a transporter loaded with cars.
New job, different car, driving home one night, he overtook a cyclist at the point where the cyclist had turned right, man and boy, all his working life, on his way home, without signalling. Killed him stone dead. Umpteen witnesses came forward to say Nink was in no way to blame and hadn't been driving fast or recklessly.
This was getting on for forty five years ago. Last time I heard about him he was driving for an undertakers.
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