Cruelest irony strikes again
I’ve always been an outspoken advocate of pointing out the foibles in other peoples driving. When someone does something blatantly stupid or life threatening to themselves and the drivers around them I’m first off the mark to criticise. That alone is what makes the following so ironic…
Whilst driving from Oranmore to Claregalway, Co. Galway yesterday morning I noticed a garda car behind me. Nothing unusual about that. For anyone that knows that stretch of road, you’ll know it’s home to some straight stretches and some gentle curves. An old woman in front of me was driving at around 45/50mph and so I chose to overtake her, losing sight of the garda car behind me. Up ahead there was a ford transit signaling and turning left. He had pulled into the hard shoulder and I indicated to pass him, my right tyres crossing the broken white line in the centre of the road by no more than a foot. A woman driving an old red ford mondeo coming toward me, yet more than a hundred yards away, must have decided that this was all too uncomfortable for her.
She pulled into the hard shoulder on her side and began flashing her lights. It all looked a bit like that scene in Austin Powers where the security guard is about to get run over by the slow moving steam roller. Bringing my powers of depth perception into play (which she obviously lacked) there was room for at least 2 articulated trucks between us. No point in debating it, as soon as the silly wagon started flashing I knew the cop would be up my ass like a chilli flavoured enema.
And so he was. Now here’s the real comedy.
Cop: (standard response) Are you in a hurry somewhere?
Me: I am actually yeah.
Cop: Hmmm, license please.
Me: (hands him my provisional license,hopes he doesn’t notice my lack of L plates or being accompanied by fully licensed driver)
Cop: Ahh (grunt of satisfaction) a provisional license too!
Cop goes back to car to see if I’m an escaped convict or likely to be transporting black tar heroine to Co. Mayo.
Cop: (while writing ticket and in smug tones) A city boy eh? Too used to all that city driving you are!
Me: Trying to hold back the flood of laughter at the ‘city boy’ comment.
Cop: (hands back my license) Aren’t you a very lucky boyeen not to be getting points?
Me: Err yeah thanks.
Cop: (hands ticket) Now I have to do this because there’s been so many accidents. There, a nice ticket for the princely sum of 25 euros.
Me: Right so
What I wanted to say: Every time a fella overtakes a nun, an angel gets it’s wings. If you want to ticket someone, try grabbing that bitch in the red mondeo and asking her to actually READ the ticket. Guaranteed she’s so short sighted she wouldn’t even realise theres a ticket in front of her. Shouldn’t you be off catching people that are actually making the roads more dangerous? Or down at the station eating doughnuts? I could give you a series of absolutely manic driving I’ve witnessed over the course of the last 3 fucking hours but would you be interested? Go on ya revenue generating wildman!
Cop: You’re lucky you’re not getting points. Good luck now (walks away)
Me: *muffled expletives*
Now I’ll just sit and wait for a notification of penalty points to drop through my letterbox. Yes, although he said I wouldn’t be getting any I’d be quite amazed if I didn’t get at least one. That’s how truly magnificently organised the whole thing is. If and when I do see that letter, I’ll fold it up, turn it sideways, shine it up real good and ram it up his candy ass. (or something like that)