Declan Chellar October 22nd, 2008
So yesterday I was picking Gema up from work and I was signalling to move out of the car park onto the main road.
Just one vehicle was coming my way. It was signalling to go into the car park and I was tempted to pull out, but I had a feeling the other car was going to carry straight on, so I paused in order to be sure.
Now if you have never been to Spain, you might not be aware that beeping the horn solves all traffic issues.
Stalled your car? Don’t worry, the beeping of the drivers behind you will get your engine going again.
Had a heart attack? Fear not! The clamour of the claxons is as good as a defibrillator.
Getting a handjob from your lovely passenger at the traffic lights? It’s OK, your fellow motorists will help get you to the moment of ultimate pleasure that little bit sooner.
In my case, the driver behind felt that my problem was caused by a lack of ambient noise, so he beeped at me. Oh, the poor, naïve fool! Now because I don’t own a car (I had borrowed a neighbour’s), my reputation has yet to reach all motorists in Spain, but basically, if people beep at me to hurry me up or tailgate in order to bully me out of the way, it usually results in my slowing down and delaying them longer.
Yesterday, however, I took it one step further.
I got out of the car. Gema pleaded with me not to go, but there was method.
I approached the other vehicle and I was pleased to see the driver had his window down. He had a look on his face that seemed to say ¡Joder! In fairness, though, I hadn’t shaved in two days and I was scowling slightly. Then the method kicked in. I broke into a broad smile and asked him, all wide eyed and innocent (you’d be surprised how butter-wouldn’t-melt I can make this face look):“Did you call me?”
That’s when he flustered and said:“No, no. I just thought you were having problems.”
Yeah, right. And beeping was his way of helping. I smiled again and thanked him for his concern.Thanks to my warped sense of humour and his impatience, the poor bastard turned a two-second delay into a sixty-second delay.
Gillipollas.
Gema had heard me, so she was chuckling away when I got back into the car, despite her initial fears.
“But what if he had been a knacker?” she asked.
I pity the fool!