STUPID TANKER!

To the driver of the Toll tanker; thank you.

Thank you for reminding me that there are still idiots out there that think they can drive.

Thank you for reminding me that these same idiots think, that even though they’re behind the wheel of a tanker, feel they can do whatever they please; even if it’s wrong.

You see, when I leave the quiet hamlet of Tooborac, and head toward my road, the speed limit does go up from 70kmph to 100kmph.  This I know.  I’m fully aware of it, and don’t need you tailgating me to remind me.  However, thanks for trying to help

So, when I speed up to 100kmph, I’m not going to stay there for very long, because what you don’t realise, is that in 500 meters, I have to turn off.

Mr Tanker Driver; you don’t realise this, even from the massive vantage point you have up in there in the ivory tower  you call a truck cabin.  You don’t think for a second that maybe there is a reason why I’m slowing down.  I would think that with that view, you could see everything, because you certainly drive like you know everything.

Amazingly, when I put my indicator on, you still didn’t slow down! Oh no! You kept tailgating me and decide that it’s perfectly safe for a fully loaded tanker to undertake me; on gravel.

Not that this was a problem.  Oh no.

You see, I didn’t mind my new car being showered in gravel as you thundered past me.  I didn’t even mind that you decided to merge back into the lane before you’d passed me, thus pushing me onto the wrong side of the road, causing me to slam on my breaks to avoid the vehicle coming toward me. Oh no.  I didn’t mind.

I didn’t mind that I was presented with a split second choice of being either sideswiped by you, or having a head on collision with the white commodore coming toward me.  Might I say that neither options were particularly appealing, at the time.

I’m ever so thankful that the commodore driver realised that you were clearly a douche, and could see what was happening, and backed off and moved over.

No, I didn’t mind the heart attack you have both of us, because you couldn’t figure out where your brakes were.  Or your fucken drivers licence, for that matter.  They’re possibly in the same place as your patience and consideration; up your fucken arse.

No.  What I did mind, was that whilst I was engaging my survival skills, and acting in pure, adrenaline fuelled desperation to avoid dying, I didn’t get your fucken registration number.

The fact that you had TOLL plastered all over your vehicle will help when I ring your office to complain about you being a complete dick.  However, the rego number would have been gold.

I just hope that with the 000.00125937 of a second you saved by tailgating and undertaking me, that you don’t use it to kill some other innocent bastard.

So again, I thank you.  Thank you for reminding me that there are still dicks out there that cannot drive.

May karma the angry elephant sit on your head.

Peace out.