BANG
Oh well, I had to do it eventually. After twenty years of backing the car out of the drive.
Our drive leads to a side road and it’s just near a primary school. At school chucking-out time all the parents park their cars along the side road. They park all along the main road too, with two wheels up on the kerb, so pedestrians can’t walk along the pavement because of the wildly opening car doors. If you’re trying to turn out of the side road onto the main road in either direction, you simply can’t see because of the parked cars – you just have to edge forward carefully.
Sometimes they park right across the drive, so we can’t get out. Always they park on the other side of the road opposite the drive. Their little children mill around happily between the parked cars and wander cheerily across the road. Add to this the normal traffic trying to get along the side road and there only being room to go in one direction because of all the parked cars and - - well, it’s an accident waiting to happen.
And because of this, we get used to looking very carefully to the right and to the left as we drive out from the drive, because of the potential for running over small children and indeed their parents, and we come out very slowly.
But, if there is a dark coloured car parked directly opposite the drive’s entrance, and if it’s night, which it often is, and if you’re used to looking carefully to the right and to the left - - and then a quick glance in the mirror to see if there’s anything behind you and no, there isn’t, just darkness, so you go back a bit and BANG! - - Oh yes, there was a car there after all, it was just hard to spot.
Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. And I have to say I am one of the last people in this house to do it. My brother did it years ago, leaving an exact imprint of the back of his car in the side of our neighbour’s car. My mother did it fairly recently. My friend did it just a couple of months ago.
And tonight it was my turn. BANG. Though not a very big bang, because I was going very very slowly. I pulled into the side of the road.
The owner of the car came and tapped on the window of mine.
“Yes, yes, I know, I just backed into your car,” I said grumpily. “And now I want you to come and look at this.”
He followed me in bewilderment, with his two tiny children in tow.
I made him stand at the end of the drive.
“Now, I want you to imagine you’re backing a car out of this drive,” I said, in full Schoolteacher mode. “Look to the left. All clear. Look to the right. All clear. Look behind you. What can you see?”
“Er - - well, nothing. Darkness.”
“My point exactly. So it wasn’t a very sensible place to park, was it?”
“Well, probably not - - But look, there’s a dent in my car door.”
“Yes. And at the top of our drive live two pensioners, who both drive. And a twenty year old man who drives. And me, and I’ve just backed into your car: my husband who hasn’t yet but give him time - - oh, and my daughter who’s just about to start driving lessons. And everyone else who has ever lived in our house has backed out of the drive and into a car parked opposite, and so have lots of our friends who come to visit. So, I promise you, if you ever park there again, WE WILL DO IT AGAIN!”
He looked at me, clearly thinking that he had met the Mad Woman of Leeds, muttered that he didn’t think he would be parking there again and I got Gareth to give him my insurance details just to complete the scary effect, because Gareth is Tall and has Long Hair.
And when I looked at the man's address I found that he lives a maximum of two hundred yards away. He was collecting the two tiny children from the nursery that is attached to the primary school. Perhaps next time he might consider walking the two hundred yards, so as not to add to the continual death trap that is our side road.
Damage to my car: nil. Damage to his car: dent in door. And I know it was my fault and I should be more careful: but it was a very minor accident. And there’ll be no change: the side road will be full of cars owned by parents who live two hundred yards away right until one of their children is run over and killed, and then everyone will be very sad and very sorry and they may even consider putting some double yellow lines there.
Our drive leads to a side road and it’s just near a primary school. At school chucking-out time all the parents park their cars along the side road. They park all along the main road too, with two wheels up on the kerb, so pedestrians can’t walk along the pavement because of the wildly opening car doors. If you’re trying to turn out of the side road onto the main road in either direction, you simply can’t see because of the parked cars – you just have to edge forward carefully.
Sometimes they park right across the drive, so we can’t get out. Always they park on the other side of the road opposite the drive. Their little children mill around happily between the parked cars and wander cheerily across the road. Add to this the normal traffic trying to get along the side road and there only being room to go in one direction because of all the parked cars and - - well, it’s an accident waiting to happen.
And because of this, we get used to looking very carefully to the right and to the left as we drive out from the drive, because of the potential for running over small children and indeed their parents, and we come out very slowly.
But, if there is a dark coloured car parked directly opposite the drive’s entrance, and if it’s night, which it often is, and if you’re used to looking carefully to the right and to the left - - and then a quick glance in the mirror to see if there’s anything behind you and no, there isn’t, just darkness, so you go back a bit and BANG! - - Oh yes, there was a car there after all, it was just hard to spot.
Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it. And I have to say I am one of the last people in this house to do it. My brother did it years ago, leaving an exact imprint of the back of his car in the side of our neighbour’s car. My mother did it fairly recently. My friend did it just a couple of months ago.
And tonight it was my turn. BANG. Though not a very big bang, because I was going very very slowly. I pulled into the side of the road.
The owner of the car came and tapped on the window of mine.
“Yes, yes, I know, I just backed into your car,” I said grumpily. “And now I want you to come and look at this.”
He followed me in bewilderment, with his two tiny children in tow.
I made him stand at the end of the drive.
“Now, I want you to imagine you’re backing a car out of this drive,” I said, in full Schoolteacher mode. “Look to the left. All clear. Look to the right. All clear. Look behind you. What can you see?”
“Er - - well, nothing. Darkness.”
“My point exactly. So it wasn’t a very sensible place to park, was it?”
“Well, probably not - - But look, there’s a dent in my car door.”
“Yes. And at the top of our drive live two pensioners, who both drive. And a twenty year old man who drives. And me, and I’ve just backed into your car: my husband who hasn’t yet but give him time - - oh, and my daughter who’s just about to start driving lessons. And everyone else who has ever lived in our house has backed out of the drive and into a car parked opposite, and so have lots of our friends who come to visit. So, I promise you, if you ever park there again, WE WILL DO IT AGAIN!”
He looked at me, clearly thinking that he had met the Mad Woman of Leeds, muttered that he didn’t think he would be parking there again and I got Gareth to give him my insurance details just to complete the scary effect, because Gareth is Tall and has Long Hair.
And when I looked at the man's address I found that he lives a maximum of two hundred yards away. He was collecting the two tiny children from the nursery that is attached to the primary school. Perhaps next time he might consider walking the two hundred yards, so as not to add to the continual death trap that is our side road.
Damage to my car: nil. Damage to his car: dent in door. And I know it was my fault and I should be more careful: but it was a very minor accident. And there’ll be no change: the side road will be full of cars owned by parents who live two hundred yards away right until one of their children is run over and killed, and then everyone will be very sad and very sorry and they may even consider putting some double yellow lines there.
posted by Daphne at 11:14 pm
1 Comments:
Yellow lines around here seem to be painted for the convenience of parkers rather than for the safety of drivers, cyclists and pedestrians. Mind you, I could say exactly the same of cycle lanes...
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