Let me go into rave mode today, not rave mode as in joyous singing and unnerving cheering, but as in "a raving and ranting mood". I, for my sins, drive my own car around in Malta and can't say I love the chore. On the contrary, I hate it with a vengeance and would do so even if we had great roads and our drivers were the epitome of courtesy.
I envy those who love their cars and all their topless models—cars I mean, not the naughty human type. I wish I could love my driving—and wish I knew what a carburettor is or how to open the bonnet. So I'm guilty as hell and admit freely that I am an idiot behind the wheel.
But why do we think that when behind the wheel in Malta we have a licence to be rude? I –maybe again because I am an idiot—try hard to please most other drivers. So I will stop and let them out when it won't make much sense to inch on and block everyone's progress.
And if anyone is desperately trying to back out of —or in to—some particularly difficult parking slot and it will not make much difference to my life or anyone's behind me if I stop and let them manoeuvre out or in I give them their opportunity. I know there are a few others like me who do this courtesy...
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