The regular readers among you could be forgiven for thinking that I tend towards the obsessive where traffic holdups are concerned. Perish the thought! I am in reality a very easy-going, considerate, thoughtful driver who sets off at 6.30 each workday morning full of goodwill towards all - even BMW drivers provided they show me the same consideration!
However, even a saint's goodwill and patience would be tested when, having duly negotiated the trials of crossing the Runcorn Bridge, one is then confronted by the sudden appearance of a 30mph speed limit sign on the Runcorn Expressway and the sight of an endless line of almost stationary traffic up ahead.
"Funny," you muse, "There was no advance warning of road works here."
No, as you crawl a little further forward, it becomes evident that someone with a sadistic sense of humour has organised a traffic census for our entertainment and amusement. Incredible but true! By the time I am accosted by a face through my driver's window, the conversation goes something like this:
Good morning. How are you today? All right?
Not at the moment, no.
On your way to work, are you?
No, just thought I'd work on my tan. (With commendable effort of will I refrain from saying this!)
Yes, Trying to anyway.
Could you tell me where you are going?
(Information duly given, including postcode.)
And where have you come from?
Home, you moron, where do you think at this time on a Wednesday morning? An all night rave? (Again I refrain.)
That's a long way! (So you weren't absent from school when they did geography then?)
Yes, so I am not very impressed at being stopped like this when I am trying to get to work!
With that, was finally allowed on my way, but, come on, folks, give us a break!