True Confessions From My Personal "Archives of Yesteryear" (The Drive)
And so begins the first of a select handful of mishaps due to my overactive youth. The union of innocence and intellect rarely went hand in hand. Yet another shining example of a kid over complicating a simple circumstance...
...So I'm driving down the road in my old red second-hand Vauxhall Astra with a girl by my side who was kind enough to get into a relationship with me. Anyways, one of those small, mini-roundabouts rear up just ahead, to which I decide to put my foot down on the accelerator and bank a sharp left. A few turns through these narrow streets and I'll be home safe and sound just in time for supper. Well, as luck would have it, another car of a considerably smaller stature is approaching the same roundabout fast and just out of sight. It was one of those early Mini's with the bulging round headlights. In hindsight, it "was" his right of way but that didn't mean jack back then. At the same moment I made the turn, he slammed on the brakes hard, sounding the horn for what must have been a good ten seconds or so. Not wanting to appear like I gave a damn in front of my better half, the old middle finger went up in the air, following by a quick conceited smirk, before speeding off again.
So, I make it to the end of the road when it becomes apparent that this guy is closer than I'd like him to be in my rear-view mirror. It also comes to my attention that this hulking beast of a man is, in actuality, taking up most of the space in the driver's seat. His rage is evident by the rapid movement of his mouth and this one, surprisingly tiny finger, gesturing for me to park up at the nearest convenient spot. Now, I remember getting this dull, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. After all, this was an unwelcoming turn of events in my otherwise perfect plan to look "cool". Anna, my then girlfriend, was looking at me all curious like. "What the matter?" She asked, in plain ignorance to what was going on. A real drag for me as I now knew that she wasn't even paying attention to my act of chivalrous bravery or stupidity) back there. Alas, this whole mess was meaningless.
"It's nothing, babe. Just some idiot having a bout of rage road for some reason or other." I replied. But inside, the old belly was doing back flips in terror. So, when the coast was clear, I put my foot down, to which my trusty old Astra responded in it's usual lethargic manner and just as rapidly, the crazed "Mini-man" followed suit. All the while jabbing that stubby index finger in the air for me to pull over. Oh yes, this was looking pretty bad. I spied my house at the end of the road, but knew I couldn't stop. Unless I wanted to become tonight's shit spread for "Mini-man's" sandwiches tonight. I hurtled past my house, only to be continually pursued in close proximity by the Mini. "What are you doing?" Anna asked again. By this point, my focus was strictly on trying to figure out how to lose this human behemoth squashed within his miniature vehicle. "Look!" I said firmly. "This madman is going nuts behind me. I don't know what to do!" I pulled up to the end of the road and, without indicating, took a sharp right at the give-way. At least God saw fit to clear the road of any traffic lest I'd have been splattered to death by some passing truck. But lo and behold, "Mini-man" just refused to give up. And things were just about to get a whole lot worse. You see, I had this habit of pulling into gas stations and filling up the tank to just barely skimming over the "red" section. You know, the part that tells you when you're about to run out of fuel? Well, that didn't help proceedings, to say the least. I knew if this carried on, I'd only have enough juice left in my car to make it a little while longer until the car stops running altogether. Now was the time to do some fast, survival based thinking. Which is exactly what I did.
It's amazing the amount of clarity a scared teenager can conjure when faced with a life-threatening situation. But it worked a treat here. I pulled the car over to the side of the kerb and came to a pathetic halt. "Mini-man" did just the same. I recited a quick prayer to myself, Anna watching on with a confused stare, as I opened the door and got out. Just in time to watch "Mini-man" kick his car door open and prise himself out. Good, I thought, another few seconds to compose myself. Once in the open, his enraged expression and sizeable girth must have caused most of the blood to leave my face. But this was life or death. I was sure of it. And so, the conversation went something like this...
"Hey mate, is there a problem?"
"You little bastard!" He yelled, stomping up in my direction. "Why did you swear at me? I'll snap that finger off and shove it up my ass." (Yes, he actually said that.)
"No mate, You must have seen wrong." I whimpered. "I was apologising. I had my hand in the air. I didn't swear. I swear." (Wrong choice of words maybe, but said nonetheless)
The hulking beastman, almost upon me now, was not having any of it, but I could sense a modicum of "questioning" about his face. "I'm sorry, sir." I continued. "Really. I know it was my fault. But I had my hand up, not my finger. Please, I don't want any trouble. It's a misunderstanding. I'm sorry!"
Through his anger, my pitiful words must have reached some dormant, merciful element within his soul. The clenched teeth parted ways, the balled fists went limp and his contorted, neanderthalic features relaxed.
"You better not be telling me porkies, boy." ("Porkies" is an English expression for "lies".)
"I promise, sir. I'm... Sorry."
In an instant, the terrifying monster had been subdued. He even let out a kindly grimace.
"You're lucky. I was getting ready to call you an ambulance after I was done with yer. Just mind yourself from now on."
"I will, mate" I replied, with a smile. "And... thanks." *(God, what a miserable spectacle this was.)
I watched him squeeze his ample frame back into the car, start the ignition and splutter away. Hell, I even waved back. Though just as he disappeared into the distance becoming nothing more than a fuming speck, only one word seemed to involuntarily leave my lips.
"Bastard..."
