Lead foot & The Entitled Delivery Driver

Do you ever get those days when you wake up and, without even realising, everyone is getting it?

You get in the car, or in my case the van and all of a sudden you develop a lead foot. Normally you drive really carefully, watch your speed and drive like the little old lady that you quite often feel like when you first get up. Well, how you imagine you would drive if you were a little old lady because in reality, those grey-haired ladies are something else entirely. They are fast and unpredictable. You have to watch out for them like you do the buses; they have places to be and people to collect, so get out of the way. No one messes with those.

Cruising down an open road, the driver contemplates life whilst taking in the serene landscape of rolling hills and distant mountains under a cloudy sky.

So you are driving down the road without a care in the world, contemplating what you are going to do for dinner when you look down, and the speedometer says thirty-eight; I’m sure I haven’t gone past a forty sign. You take your foot off the pedal to slow down. Then you continue your journey. You now start day-dreaming (whilst watching the road), what life would be like on a desert island surrounded by sharks where no one can find me. Would it be that bad? How could I get myself marooned? You glance down, and again you're doing thirty-five; this is just annoying. You are normally really good at staying within the speed limit, although today is not one of those days. And don’t get me started on staying under 20 MPH; this is impossible, my van just doesn’t do that. It is incapable. I think all those cars in Wales are just built differently because I have to put cruise control on if I have any hope of staying under twenty.

Then you come up to a row of parked cars. You have sat behind the line of parked cars for what is probably ten minutes now, so on the next decent gap you are going for it. You have patiently waited, and you see the last car in the line of oncoming traffic; make a mental note, it’s the silver one, then I can go. It passes as you rev your engine, and then you are off, gliding past the twenty-seven parked cars who parallel park like pros. Then, from out of nowhere, you see an entitled delivery driver. He is speeding towards you, going as fast as the checkout lady in Aldi. You look for a gap that you can zip in, but there is none; your only choice is to keep going forward. You put your lead foot to the test to try and beat him to the finish line (end of the cars). He does the same thing, thinking you will magically disappear. You  Don’t.

A delivery van is stationed outside a building, emphasising service delays.

At this point you start to slow down.

He is going to hit me head-on.

I slow down as a slower impact would be preferable.

He slams his brakes on to let you past, and glares.

So due to the entitled delivery driver's attitude, you do one of two things...

Look him straight in the eye and do your best smile, so he knows how thankful you are for him letting you past. Not that he had much choice because you really did have nowhere to go. But you smile all the same to thank him for his kindness and for him really wanting to let you past.

Or you do the most ladylike thing you can think of, and shout…

“You absolute asshole, where did you want me to go?  Couldn’t you see all of the cars parked? One after another, no gap, you was no where to be seen when I started to go around these cars. What a bell end, did you not see me coming? Moron. Learn to use your brakes.”

By the time you have finished ranting, he is nowhere to be seen again. Probably driving casually to his next destination, never to think of you again.

You, however, proceed to tell everyone you come across that day about the delivery driver you met on the road and how he has ruined your whole day.