I am a terrible, manky bastard when driving on my own. In my little bubble of Ford Escortiness, I am immune, invisible, invincible and free to do as I please, up to and including farting like a trooper and scoring the results out of ten.Every now and then, the bubble bursts, and my habits are lade bare before me like the King of Wrong that I am.
Here then, is a short list of disgusting, embarrassing or anti-social activities I may or may not have performed in the last months, and the excuses given in that horrible moment of realisation that You Are Not Alone:
* Pick your nose and wipe it on the steering wheel
Excuse: "It improves grip"
* Sing along to music and imagine that I am auditioning for The X Factor
Excuse: "The pop industry is crying out of somebody singing 80s synth-pop covers, dammit"
* Mouth the word 'wanker' when cut up by some smooth bastard in a BMW
Excuse: None. Too busy trying to escape by driving much, much slower than he is before darting up a side road
* Eyeing up attractive young ladies on a hot summer's day, their pert young breasts struggling against the tight, white material of their flimsy T-shirts
Excuse: "I'm looking for somewhere to pull over. Oh. No. There's a mini parked there"
* Have filthy, erotic thoughts about attractive young ladies on a hot summer's day, their pert young breasts struggling against the tight, white material of their flimsy T-shirts to take your mind off the fact you are dying for a piss
Excuse: "It's itchy, right?"
* Taking a wee into a Lucozade bottle, screwing the top back on and leaving it on the back seat for some unsuspecting passenger to find in the very near future
Excuse: "M25. Traffic jam. No services. What did you expect?"
Sorry. Won't do it again.
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