If you honk at me when the lights have just turned green, I will put on my hazard and pretend the car has stalled. If you cut me off on the road I’m like an elephant, I won’t forget, I will trail you to your house. And report you to your wife. I silently curse those chicks who drive VW Polos and who are adversely allergic to acceleration lanes. You know them. The pesky ones who will have cars backup because they are waiting to join the road when Kingdom finally comes. I’m that guy who will eat his shoelace first before he lets anyone overlapping join traffic. I will eat my whole shoe if it’s a Probox.
I just don’t let things go on the road. I’m vindictive. I curse. I sometimes show the royal middle- finger. I find little mirth on the road and even less in driving. I’m a basket case when my foot is on the pedal.
If I’m a prick off the road on the road I’m a first-class prick. I allow things to foul up my whole morning: I will walk around mumbling to myself, cussing under my breath, feeling lava flow in my veins. I’m inconsolable. Incurable. Irredeemable. Anger is my co-driver on the road.
There is something evil I’ve always wanted to do. Normally while dropping off the princess to school in the morning I usually get off Waiyaki Way and join Musa Gitau Rd into Lavington. In the mornings there are usually this bunch of matatus that illegally join Waiyaki Way by cutting right across Waiyaki Way from Musa Gitau Rd thus blocking the ...... Read the entire article