About a mile from home I pull up behind a slow moving vehicle with flashing lights and black and yellow chevrons. Assuming it’s a street cleaner I weave a little with view to overtaking. Unexpectedly, an arm extends out of the offside window and flaps wildly. It’s a signal I vaguely remember from my driving test days back in the eighties, but I can’t remember what it means. It’s charmingly manual, presumably deriving from a time before light bulbs, and reminds me of when driving was still unpredictable and full of mystery. Rather than something that just happens when you’re between places, as it is now.
I cross once again over the crown of the road and the arm flapping changes into something a little more erratic, as if the driver is attempting to slap the side of his truck immediately behind the window. I wonder whether he’s having some kind of fit and signalling for help.
I pull in closer behind and swing out again in an effort to understand what’s going on. That’s when I notice the second vehicle in front, a kind of small yellow steam-driven contraption - like a roller, but I can’t see what it’s rolling. Is this what it’s all about - a roller in transit between jobs? Surely they’d put it on a truck wouldn’t they? Unless I’ve happened upon the world record breaking Endurance Rolling Team in the process of completing the Scottish leg of its round the world endurance rolling attempt. I suppose I’m honoured to be delayed by such an heroic undertaking.
But I’d still rather get home, so after the next bend I throttle hard and, with a jaunty toot and a friendly wave, surge past both vehicles. I catch a glimpse of the truck driver who seems to be shouting something out of his open window. No doubt an apology for the inconvenience caused.
Twenty minutes later I’m in the driveway trying to chip the thick white paint off my tyres with a screwdriver. It never occurred to me that people painted white lines on roads when anyone else was about. Without telling them. The white goo is becoming stiffer by the minute, and I chip away with increased vigour, afraid that at some indeterminate point in the future it will become permanent. I’m in new territory here and have no clue about the properties of this substance. Other than that when you put it on a road it stays there a very long time. Which suggests that if you put it on a car it won’t be going anywhere fast. Other than where the car’s going of course.
