We have our fair share of road rage. Nothing out of the ordinary, you understand, just the usual clubbing to near death with a tyre iron. Today I had the opportunity to witness a road rage event (sounds exciting doesn't it?) myself.
I must explain, owing to the bloke who sets the timing for Adelaide's numerous traffic lights thinking that 3 seconds is sufficient to enable cars to move across an intersection, we end up with cars banking up for quite a while.
The traffic today duly came to stop. The car alongside in the other lane screeched to halt as if he was late for an asshole anonymous meeting, with fists pounding on the steering wheel and then punching his dashboard. I couldn't tell what the dashboard had done wrong to receive such grievous blows from its owner. He gnashed his teeth at me as he gave me the finger. What had I done?
I watched as the lights changed to green and the traffic slowly (its Adelaide) started to move when, the lights changed to red. I stopped my car as did everyone else, except the dashboard basher. He put his foot down, accelerating until he rammed the car in front. He had "lost it" and was patently venting his rage, without due care.
Quickly he flew open his car door and then jumped onto the bonnet of his own car, bouncing up and down like an orangutan visiting a harem, shouting obscenities that could only be described as upsetting to the poor young lady in the car he had rammed. She wisely stayed inside her car.
The lights changed and I had to drive off. The thing was he had done little damage to her four-wheel drive but his old sedan was steaming and looking quite crumpled if not upset.
I watched from the rear view mirror as several people were attempting to restrain the man from his malicious wounding of his own vehicle.
It was surreal to say the least.