After I leave work of an evening, I cross the road via a Zebra Crossing.  This is something I achieve each weekday evening, although not without the occasional hiccough.

Take tonight, for example.  After stepping out onto the crossing, I noticed that a car on the far side of the road was making a fuss about having to stop.  He eventually – grudgingly – halts with the front of his chavwagon sticking over the crossing. I walk past and get on the pavement.

As he sets off, he winds down his window and shouts “You’re supposed to wait for the car to give way, you fucking nob!

Well, I’m always willing to be wrong, so I looked it up.  It turns out – according to the Highway Code – that cars are required to “look out for pedestrians waiting to cross and be ready to slow down or stop to let them cross” and “MUST give way when a pedestrian has moved onto a crossing” (emphasis theirs.)

Never mind, chavwagon driver.  I’m sure you’ll learn to drive properly one day.  Possibly when you hit puberty.

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