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In cars

When I used to live in a little town called Northville, my housemate used to drive 40 miles to work everyday and she'd comment on the driver's faces and people she'd recognised in their cars going the opposite direction to hers. Now this poses a couple of problems for me. On the busy country roads that she drives down you could go up to 60 miles an hour (depending on the time of day or night) or crawling at 20 (depending on the tractor in front of you.) I tend to look at the cars directly in front of or behind me, and not so much at the faces of people inside cars whizzing past in the opposite direction. Two, is that at that time, I didn't have a car, so I often hitched a ride with her - therefore I wonder how much attention she pays on the traffic compared with making comments on various drivers who are cute, ugly, pick their noses, or 'hey-I-know- her!'

Now that I live in the 'big city' I often have to drive down those same country roads to go to the hospital where I work. After all that time tutting at her for not paying attention to the road, I find myself doing the same things she does. When you go down the same roads a million times, driving becomes automatic. I find myself looking at the sheep in the fields, the cows lying down (ooh, it's going to rain), signs selling organic eggs, and even the dead badger with its black and white striped nose lying on the opposite side of the road. I seem to see a lot of wild animals lately. There was that fox by the river a few weeks ago, and a deer by the canal in Lancaster. And a rat I saw scurrying into the drains by the cinema I was going to attend. Though I'm not sure a rat would be classified as a wild animal. Cinema was rank though. I don't think I've been to a cinema with such sticky floors since I was thirteen.

I think I may have gotten a speeding ticket last night on my way home from work. Normally, when I don't think I can drive the 50 miles back home, I take a nap before setting off or stop at a motorway service station for a coffee or a quick snooze in the car (which is how I've got an uneven suntan down my right side) . I was so close to home that I soldiered on and forgot to slow down at the end of the motorway and drove through at 70mph in a 50mph zone. And I know that speed camera works because I've seen it go 'flash!' at a car overtaking ahead of me. The worse thing is I haven't done my road tax.

I hope John Prescott doesn't deport me for this.

Comments

Kere said…
I'll never hear the end of that would I? I'd be on my death bed, and just before I drift off, a croaky voice would say, "Kere, you're a goooood driver>"

!!!!!!!

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