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Get stuck in traffic.

Running late for work.

Attempt to drive it like I stole it.

Get stuck behind an overly cautious Vauxhall Corsa driver.

Ponder the eternal questions of why they are breaking for the pseudo speed bumps, driving to the very left of the road and stopping unnecessarily at junctions. Are they high?

Now, I may have morphed rather quickly into a typical white van driver and find it altogether too comfortable, but if there’s one thing I’m firm about its the treatment of learners. I exhibit a professional level of patience with them, normally only extended to haemofiltered 14 year olds withdrawing from sedation and needing to be reminded every 5 minutes that they’re not in the basement cafe of a courthouse. I stay back, give them time to pull away or perform their manoeuvres and I don’t even mouth abuse or pull faces in their mirrors. I see it as a kind of meta-patience, I don’t even get privately annoyed because I’m so patient with the whole process of showing patience.

But once those L plates are gone that’s it, you’re on your own. If you’re not going to drive that thing like you mean it, someone else will. Just get out there and own the road, don’t be afraid. What’s the worst that could happen?

I’ve noticed recently a convention of considerate indication that one is not fit to be in possession of a moving vehicle (presumably for reasons such as recreational drug use). Driving with your hazard lights on, whoever you are, is pretty much just screaming out at me “I am so baked right now.” As is driving whilst indicating in the opposite direction to which you are going – I see bus drivers do that a lot. This is good, I like to be clear about who knows what they’re doing on the road and who doesn’t.

Believe it or not, I have only recently discovered that it is not until you lose something that you realise just how little you used it in the first place. Imagine my initial annoyance when I found my driver’s side wing mirror had been callously smashed by a passing speeding driver lacking awareness of the width of their vehicle. But how that annoyance faded as I drove to work a few times and barely noticed its loss. How bad habits do set in.

In a nod to financial responsibility, £20 of unleaded in the 1.8L Zafira got me about 90 urban miles (I think, ish; much further on the motorway of course). The counter has now started to see how far £20 worth of diesel will get me in a ?2.1L Vito. Hopefully, this will be prove to be a valuable economy.

Lyric of the Week: The doors read “MArry me, I love you”