I have written before about the travails of my walk to work every morning but it took on a new, sinister turn this morning ... well it's all relative.
If you are not au fait with my walk to work, let me elucidate: the last 600 or so yards are on a road with no pavement which is busy with people travelling to work at the offices of East Hants District Council.
I'm no string bean, therefore if I'm walking on the road, facing incoming traffic, cars often have to slow down to allow traffic coming from the other direction to pass before pulling out to overtake me.
Quite often they don't look too happy about it. And understandably so: the extra five or six seconds it takes probably means they have to park one space further away from the main entrance.
But this morning one man decided he wasn't prepared to wait. With a look of grim determination on his face he actually accelerated towards me in an attempt to get through before the opposing vehicle. He did not veer out at all and clipped my wrist with his wing mirror.
I was so shocked I didn't have the nous to take down his registration number. I almost forgot to mouth the word 'tosser' after him as well, but somehow regained my demeanour in order so to do.
This shaven-headed moron - you know the type: probably keeps a Staffordshire bull terrier in order to make up for the fact he has the intellectual capacity of a tub of cottage cheese - has made a rod for his own back.
If I see him coming again in the next few weeks I will ensure he hits me square on - at 20-plus stone I'll do some damage to his car plus I have the number for Ambulance Chasers Direct programmed into my mobile.
Your days are numbered muppet!
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