Landers

Monday night myself, Brad, Helen and Alish whizzed off to Dublin to see Train at Vicar Street. They were great. I’m always nervous seeing bands live as I worry they’re going to be shit, a bit like the Sugarbabes were at the Junior Eurovision Song Contest years back (they should never sing live!). Studio produced songs are usually pretty perfect and there’s that panic that the group isn’t going to be able to recreate a quality good enough that I’m going to go home having enjoyed the night and still liking the band. Thankfully Train out-performed my expectations and were musically and vocally brilliant. During one song Pat, the lead singer, asked the band to stop playing and did one of the verses completely without accompaniment. It was incredible. I saw Heather Small of M People do something similar at the NEC about twenty years ago when, during one of their concerts (yes I went to an M People concert!), there was a power failure and everything apart from the emergency lighting went off. Whilst the techies were trying to get the power back on Heather stood at the front of the stage and sang. Her voice filled the 12’000 seater arena. Musically it was one of the most awesome and incredible experiences I’ve ever had and I often get goose bumps just thinking of it. Her voice, much like Pats, rang out to every person in the audience and the standing ovation both artists got on their respective nights showed just how people felt. It was awe inspiring.

I’ve digressed a lot – as per flippin’ usual!

So, with the concert over and some of us having to be in work the next day we didn’t head for drinks, instead we just headed for the car and drove home.

A little outside Dublin and just on the motorway I pulled into lane two to overtake a tanker. The speed limit was 120kmph and I wasn’t going over that as the tanker wasn’t doing anymore than about 70 or 80kmph.

Pulling up behind me with huge bright headlights was a boy racer in a van. “Asshole!” I thought and in that split second I had a choice to make. I love how the brain works in these situations. You know all the options and your mind seems to slow everything down so you can evaluate them and choose, what you think, is the right one.

My options were:
1. Carry on as normal and let him get annoyed and try and fight past me, finally pulling in once I’d cleared the tanker and giving him/her the finger as they drive past me.
2. Slam on the brakes and watch as he/she does the same with a look of panic on his/her face then ensure they see my smiling and clapping.
3. Slow down really slow so I’m practically crawling past the tanker, taking my sweet old time and annoying the driver behind, then wave like a ninety-year old woman with arthritis and a turkey breast in the over who’s just out for a drive at midnight as the car hasn’t been used in three days and I’m worried it’s getting lonely.
4. Speed up to get this situation over and done with as soon as possible.

Nine times out of ten I’d go for option two. I care very little if they go into the back of me. Yes, it’s a lot of paperwork and hassle but I’m happy to go through with it if it means I get to say “This is what you get for tailgating you fucking moron!” Okay so I know it’s the wrong attitude but I hate tailgating with a passion I reserve only for a certain family member who shall remain un-named as they might end up reading this.*

Option three is a popular one too but usually I’d do this on a quiet lane where there’s no or little possibility of overtaking.

Option four, the boring one, just ends up getting me mad as I don’t see why I should be made to feel like I have to drive like that just for him or her.

So, in the split second I made the decision to go with option one and as such I stuck at my steady speed, passed the tanker and glided (Glud? Glid? Glidded?) into lane one, happy to let the driver behind over take as when we were window to window he was getting a birds eye view of my middle finger.

I did just that. With the four of us the car raising the temperature difference between inside and out the side windows had pretty much fogged up to a state where the only thing the driver could see was my hand and finger. That was all I could see too.

He passed me and made his way ahead which was when I saw he was a member of the Garda Síochána. The police to those of you outside of Ireland.

Now, contrary to popular belief I have a lot of respect of the gardai. They do a difficult job under high pressure circumstances and rarely, from what I’ve seen, get the thanks they deserve. People complain about them stopping drivers unnecessarily but personally I feel if you’ve got nothing to hide and have done nothing wrong then you shouldn’t be complaining. “Why aren’t you catching real criminals?” or “Have you got nothing better do to?” I hear people saying when they’ve been stopped for speeding. Well, they are catching real criminals. You! You’re the criminal. You broke the law so you should deal with the consequences. You knew you were doing it. You’re not angry that he stopped you and you’re not angry at the fine or penalty points. You’re just being a fucking child and you’re angry that you got caught.

Anyway, (digressed again haven’t I?!), he drove past me and all four of us in the car seemed to “Oooooooh!” in unison and started giggling. If this had been a playground someone would have been chanting “You’re in trouble, you’re in trouble!” and I’d have probably replied “Yeah? Whatever!” But this wasn’t the playground and he was sitting a steady twenty feet or so in front of me, matching my speed.

Annoyance at getting the finger got the better of him and on came the blue lights and in he pulled in front of me and over on to the hard shoulder we went.

I wound the window down and this cop put his hands on the door and said “If you can tell me why I pulled you over I won’t prosecute you! And remember, I saw everything!”

What was he going to prosecute me for? I’m serious with that question by the way (“I’m not teasing!”) What had I actually done wrong? Improper hand signals? I don’t know. The only thing I can think of is that it would be classed as abuse of some form, a bit like swearing at someone can be called verbal abuse and you can be charged over that.

“You probably pulled me over because I gave you the finger,” I replied.
“Yes. Can I see your license please,” he asked. It was nice to know that in his apparent fury he’d still retained some manners. Probably more than I could have done. He was hot too! Not like “I have sweaty!” hot but fit! A real looker as my nan would have said.

Off he trotted with my license and we giggled in the car about me going to be prison. Suddenly I realised I hadn’t actually done anything wrong and that my finger reaction was because he was tailgating me! As he walks back to the car my dander went up! (“Don’t get your dander up Stan!” Too late Bren!) I was trying to work out what he was going to prosecute me for and as usual I was thinking about four steps ahead of everything and wondering who my one phone call would be to.

“You live over here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Err… five, nearly six, years.”
“You should get that changed!” he said handing me back my UK driving license.
“I didn’t realise I had to but okay.”
“Now, what you did wasn’t very nice was it?”
“Well in my defence I only did it because you were tailgating me!”
“Yes, I know but you weren’t very courteous!”
“Sorry, I was just a bit annoyed at your coming up so fast and so close and lets face it if I’d have known you were a garda I’d not have done it!”
“Well you should used the slow lane if you don’t like people coming up too fast behind you!”
“I was overtaking…”
“Yeah yeah, I saw what you were doing. Either way be a bit more courteous on the road!”

I took this as his way of saying “Yeah, okay I was tailgating but I’m a garda and you’re not so there!”

If it’d have been anyone else I’d probably have said “I’ll be a bit more courteous if you drive a little better!” but I know when the goings good and decided to shut my mouth and just said okay and he sent us on our way.

In a side note… slow lane? Since when have the emergency services been trained to call it a slow and/or fast lane! It’s not even called an overtaking lane anymore! It’s lane one, two or three! I don’t drive in lane one because it’s the slow lane I drive in it because one of the first rules of the road in this country and the UK (and some others!) is “keep left!” It’s a shame more people don’t abide by that rule!

So, come on, what had I actually done wrong? What charges could have been bought against me? I’d have no problem owning up to anything I’d done wrong I just can’t work out what it was. Is it an offence to finger a member of the Garda Síochána? (No, that’s what she said!) Surely if it’s illegal to do it to them it should be illegal to do it to everyone? If that’s the case then I expect to be up in court a lot as it’s my standard to response in many situations. Bad driving, insane requests or even Brad asking me to pass him the remote usually ends up seeing my middle finger appear from somewhere. If it’s an offence then I’m in a huge heap of shit!

Even through my confusion I’ve giggled most of the week about this. About his pettiness and me being defensive. I’ve giggled even more at that fact that if he’d looked at the front of the car he’d have noticed my tax was out! Thank fuck he didn’t! This has since been rectified I hasten to add!

*Every family member reading is now wondering if it’s them. Heh! It could be!