Driving Myself Round the Bend
Once, in a car park, in a hurry, I put the car in gear and said “Ready, Steady…” My toddler in the back shouted “Go!” I then proceeded to crash into the car to my left. Don’t know how. Of course, it was a BMW with a private number-plate…
Another time, it was an exceptionally hot Scottish summer. I was desperate to go for a swim in the river. The normally deserted car park was almost full, with locals and tourists taking advantage of the River Dee. I parked in the last remaining “space” between two cars. It was a bit tight. I asked my friend to get out to guide me in. She got out, looked, and said, “Well, you’re hitting both of them…”
So much for me. I have known too many bad drivers, most of whom would recognise themselves if I went into any detail. Suffice to say:
I know one who changes gear in order to break.
I knew one who, at the top of a big spiral-cum-hairpin hill (the Hailie Brae in Largs), would advise, “Just put it in neutral and swing down.”
I once was a passenger in a car in where the catch had broken under the seat and I kept slamming forwards and backwards every time he braked or accelerated. Very painful – and he seemed oblivious!
My other driving memories, where the car was (generally) at fault, are here.