I did something this morning that I haven't done in 15 years. Boy racer flies by and cuts me up to get to the on-ramp first. It's a 270-degree cloverleaf deal. He gets into the corner and slows to a crawl, hugging the inside as any good boy racer taking the racing line would. So I was faced with a choice: nail the brakes, or just drive around the idiot on the outside. Hmm. We're talking about him at 20mph and me at maybe twice that, no drama, no squealing tyres. As I said, it's been 15 years since I last did that, but it's still gut-bustingly funny. Especially when you're driving a 15-year-old Subaru estate. Up on the highway, I just cruised at the speed limit, but boy racer faded further and further back for some reason. Feel free to share your boy-racer-as-idiot stories here. What a 1993 Subaru estate may look like: Image Unavailable, Please Login
