Jul 2nd, 2008
Asking for it
Today’s weather was typically Irish… lashing rain followed by blazing sunshine followed by hailstones, all within 30 minutes on a continuing cycle. The sort of weather where you need to be prepared when you leave the house.
I was driving to work on the N11 today and was roughly at the Greystones turn-off, when a convertible pulled out in front of me. The roof was down despite ominous looking clouds above, and the car’s occupants were a middle-aged ‘chap’ in tweeds (complete with a poncy tweed fedora). His passenger was a younger lady, immaculately preened and wearing ridiculously large Nicole Ritchie type sunglasses. She was the sort of woman who was probably named ‘Totty’ at birth.
The temptation got the better of me.
I got in front of him, and from a safe distance began to wash my windows like a mad bitch. The spray from a window washer travels amazingly well at 100kmph and I got to watch with glee as the lady in the car began to have a canary over my antics. Every time she got her compact out to re-apply her mask, I did it again. I turned her Elizabeth Arden ‘True Beige’ to Crayola and laughed an evil laugh.
Why be so cruel? Maybe it’s because it’s good to mess up beautiful things because they aren’t really all that beautiful to start with. Maybe I was just bored. Maybe it was a bit of both.
That’s my girl..
Nice one.
I love it when I see a convertible belting about the place. Especially a cheapy one with no mechanical thingy.
As in - “Oh shit! rain!”
Pull over into the hard shoulder (if available.)
Try to erect flimsy, plasticy cover and fail because some critical parts that should be in the boot (trunk) were left at home to make room for shopping/golf clubs.
Who in their right mind in this country where it rains for at least 363.4 days a year (364.8 in a leap year) would buy a convertible?
Serves ‘em right
“She was the sort of woman who was probably named ‘Totty’ at birth.”
Ha!
I don’t really care what your reasoning behind it was, the act it’s self and the thought behind it was just absolutely brillient!
It doesn’t even matter if she deserved it or not! I’d love to have seen it!
This makes me very happy. Thank you.
Well done you!! I once read a book by Carl Hiassen where someone throws a dead rat into a convertible when driving past. I cannot pass a convertible now without thinking about the consequences of throwing a dead rodent.
A Hot Totty!
It’s great to see Irish hospitality and good will is alive and kicking
@ Robert; I’d buy one! I’ll admit that part of my antics was borne out of jealousy. It was a lovely car…
@King Bob; I’m the same only with in-car cigarette lighters!
OOOOOH Bitchy! a wee touch of the green eyed monster?
You got the hang of this taxi driving lark pretty quickly…
Living in Nice and working in Monaco you can’t imagine how often I feel like doing that, but I know its because I am jealous inverted snob……………… Yes you are evil and therefore worth a least a pint or grope or something normal and human. …..
Hee. I bet she talks about herself in the third person too:
‘Hunny? Wittle Totty needs a new handbag…’
Eat screenwash bitch!!!
WooHoo… Get ‘em gurl!
Tis too bad that you didn’t have a sword in the car to whack the dudes ponytail off, when you drove by! 
Kudos to you, Madam!
Ha! Wish you were driving in front of me . . .my windscreen needs a wash!
Robert, men who drive convertibles are lacking in a certain department!
Or maybe because they were just too up themselves. Good for you, I approve of the evil
you’re evil, but a superhero!
Roy; I had only the purest of motivations!
Caro; It beats housework…
Warrior; But I don’t want to be human! I want to be a superhero, ridding the world of Caulfield’s phonies!
English Mum; *giggle* Nail. Hit. On the head.
Jefferson; My next purchase shall be a paintball gun.
Baino; Park under a waterfall? Cheap and invigorating
Thriftcriminal; I thought you might!
Quickroute; YAY! Must start looking for a cape, a mask and a slogan, also maybe a troubled past…
Oh, you are the pro taxi driver now! Above and beyond the call of duty even.
You may pat yourself on the back while congratulating yourself profusely. Everyone else may applaud.
From a fully qualified hack driver (I still have the lighted sign that rode on the top of my cab…they gave it to me when I left), you have truly made the grade!
Scanning for sarcasm…
Fail.
No sarcasm in sight. Only sincere appreciation for a job well done and that’s the truth.
Note to self: DO NOT take the Z3 to Ireland. Ever.
LOL!