Death by van driver... nearly...

What an eventful trip into work I had this morning.

The story begins as I leave the house at 8am, after defrosting the car and shipping the kids off with the mother in law. I feel unusually upbeat, considering it's a Monday and I've had a cracking weekend in Manchester. I slip the stereo into it's slot, and smile at the satisfying click that only a removable stereo can give. Seconds later my iPhone pairs and the sound of The Wanted starts to fill the silent void of my Supra. I silently curse the new iCloud sync feature, remembering that I added my wife's phone to my account before discovering it merges everything on both phones (there is a plus side to that as I now know every appointment she's been to over the last year, but I digress).

With a deft finger movement, I shift the music onto my playlist and Kings of Leon slaps those 4 jessies off the airwaves. My morning is re-aligned.

I turn the key, and drink in the purr of the newly serviced engine as it bursts to life. I pull out of my estate over the speed bumps which no longer cause any knocking thanks to the changed coilovers, and make the 5 minute uneventful journey to my mates house to pick him up. As I trundle past his house, I beep the horn twice to alert him and then carry on to the turning point as I do every morning, however this particular morning the beeping continues to ring in my ear as I realise to my horror that my horn is, once again, stuck. While the local chavs chuckle at my misfortune, I spring into action, opening the bonnet and disconnecting the battery to restore the peace of this quiet street. As I glance around, I notice the twitching of curtains as the many residents employed by the government via benefits take a look at the miscreant who's disturbed their daily lie-in routine.

My mate arrives, looking puzzled at my chaotic entry into his morning but understands when he sees my steering in bits. So, 10 minutes later we have a working horn again and after quick texts to managers to explain why we will be slightly late, we set off.

Three quarters of the way into our 45 minute journey, and driving on the first 30 miles of a new clutch, therefore carefully, we pull onto the A194, a perfectly smooth dual-carriageway more than capable of handling my 75mph dash towards South Shields. I'm in the fast lane, which is completely empty. I always watch the road ahead, trying to anticipate any potential hazards which may seek to damage my machine, as any experienced driver should do, and this morning my spider sense tingles. Surveying the road ahead I take stock of the white van in the left lane, doing around 60mph and fast approaching, and I also take note of the 2 cars heading up the slip road on a course which would see them intersect the A194 at around the same time the van crosses the slip-road entrance. I know what's about to happen, but I don't quite believe it until, when I'm literally 3 meters from the rear of the van, at a velocity of roughly 30% more than him, he drifts over into my lane without so much as a sprinkling of indication.

My passenger screams like a girl as I jam my foot hard on the brake pedal and the horn (now working perfectly I must add). I hear the scraping of rubber on tar as we slide on a collision course with the rear of the van, and strangely all I can think of is how I'm flat spotting my new tyres. Just before we collide, I lift off the brakes to give myself some much needed traction, and swing my steering left and then right as we gracefully glide into the left lane, narrowly missing the fool in front. Not content with trying to kill us once, the bright van driver, no doubt reacting to the horn and squeal of tyres, now veers left, back into my path once more. Again I jam the brakes and swing right, back into the fast lane and then slam the accelerator to the floor while testing my horn again to try and get away from this tradesman hell bent in killing me. In all fairness to the van driver, he does give me a polite, I assume apologetic, wave as I blast past. I wave back, but not in quite the same manner, and continue the rest of the journey trying to restart my passenger's heart.

On the bright side, I know now that my brakes, steering and horn work well. I'll never take a van driver for granted again. Always assume they are about to do something stupid and unexpected!

Some rite tools on the road ! Glad your ok fella.

Theres some right pebs around mate

From what I've read, you should become a writer You are pretty good with words On the serious side of the story - glad you are OK!

I don't like scary stories I think I wet myself.

I don't like scary stories I think I wet myself.

:rlol:

From what I've read, you should become a writer You are pretty good with words On the serious side of the story - glad you are OK!

i totally agree with emperor, you have a way with words

Good read, but you get them pillocks everywere .

A way with words? Are you guys kidding? I almost fell asleep.

Very nice anecdotal story but if I picked up a book that started off so tedious it would be in the bin before page 2

Start riding motorbikes, you'll spot that move coming from 2 miles away!

Sounds as if it was a close call. Glad you managed to keep control.

Pmsl :- the twitching of curtains as the many residents employed by the government via benefits take a look at the miscreant who's disturbed their daily lie-in routine.

Glad your ok bud ;-)

as a truck driver we are faced with legislation and monitoring of drivers hours and have came to the conclusion not enough legislation on van drivers, was speaking to one 2 days ago while delivering to Dundee he was about to drive back to Suffolk. He had started at 2300 the night before did multidrop deliveries all the way up to Scotland and was leaving Dundee at 1200 the following afternoon and told me he would get home by 1800-1900 that night so a 20 hour shift behind the wheel.

Nice and safe EH!!!

as a truck driver we are faced with legislation and monitoring of drivers hours and have came to the conclusion not enough legislation on van drivers, was speaking to one 2 days ago while delivering to Dundee he was about to drive back to Suffolk. He had started at 2300 the night before did multidrop deliveries all the way up to Scotland and was leaving Dundee at 1200 the following afternoon and told me he would get home by 1800-1900 that night so a 20 hour shift behind the wheel.

 

Nice and safe EH!!!

Funnily enough I was gobsmacked with what some of our delivery drivers get away with. They courier stuff between the sites (Derby, EK, Ansty, etc). Most of the time they will take stuff to another site, kip for an hour then bring a load of stuff back up. That's ok if your shift is only 10 hours long or whatever, but these guys are running for days at a time to rake in the money.

It's mental, noone should be behind a wheel for that length of time (unless in a 24hr race ).

I name the van driver as Kyle Busch, and claim my £10

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=dDBd0CLjOwc#!

Thanks for the concern boys.

Scott, I love your brutal honesty. It's always refreshing, but just to set your mind at rest, I don't really have the patience to write more than a page so you're doomed to a wakeful read of any book I write in its entirety...

Thanks for the concern boys.

 

Scott, I love your brutal honesty. It's always refreshing, but just to set your mind at rest, I don't really have the patience to write more than a page so you're doomed to a wakeful read of any book I write in its entirety...

I can live with that

In your defence I rarely get past page one of anything by Stephen King

I can live with that

 

In your defence I rarely get past page one of anything by Stephen King

Me neither, I prefer the movies. It's hard to picture Christine from a description. I need to see the bad girl!

I name the van driver as Kyle Busch, and claim my £10

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=dDBd0CLjOwc#!

I've just watched a few of his videos, that guy seems like a right cock. I hope someone puts him on his arse after a stunt like that and puts him in his place. What a child.