Thursday, August 30, 2001 Road Rage And How To Beat It I encountered Road Rage tonight. I was sitting along a busy street, indicating I was wanting to pull out. A car coming along the street begins to indicate, giving me the impression that they were wanting into my soon to be vacated parking space, so I go to pull out. Wrong. The fuckwit had just decided to indicate (far, far too early) that he was going to turn left down a street way further up. Not content with driving like an asshole, he sticks his head out of the car window and gives me abuse. I hurl abuse back. I'm better. I'm a cabbie. I've had loads of practice. Dickhead then decides to follow me, flashing his lights, blowing his horn, yelling out his window and almost touching my back bumper. At that point Edna lost her temper. I was tired and therefore grouchy. I slammed the brakes on, opened the car door and informed him that if he came one inch nearer I'd rip his head off and shit down his neck. For starters. Men see a woman driver and think they can hassle her as much as they like. Then they meet me and get a whole different view. I'm a professional driver who covers more than a thousand miles a week. I won't take any shit from some ignorant sod who needs to take another look at his higway code. Forget Germaine Greer's take on feminism. The only way we'll ever get equality with men is to show them we ain't ever going to be scared of them.
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