It is a beautiful, sunny day and I'm driving merrily down the motorway on my way home from work, looking forward to a delightful bank holiday weekend with the lovely Dr K.
A car shoots past me on the outside lane and, because the driver wants to take the exit just a hundred yards ahead and absolutely has to do it in front of me, he cuts me up. And half-way through his heroically stupid manoeuvre, he indicates.
Not before his heroically stupid manoeuvre, thereby giving me a chance to anticipate his idiocy. Half way through it.
I already know you're cutting me up, you berk.
Indicating at this late stage is fricking pointless as I'm far more concerned with slamming my brakes on so I don't die horribly in the accident that you seem desperate to cause.
The lesson for today... indicators do not make you invincible. Nor do they make your heroically stupid manoeuvres okay.
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