Snarkowrite

There was a brand new Citroen C3 in front of me in the traffic crawl this morning, and its badging proudly proclaimed that it had "Sensodrive" technology.


Sensodrive! What is this, 1957? No doubt it also has Autoglide suspension and Dynatouch steering and a Flexomatic radio aeriel. Sheesh.


On the subject of this morning's freeway commute, I was blessed with further proof of the existence, and sense of humour, of God. At one point a big, low-slung BMW with black windows and P-plates lurched into the lane behind me. It snarled there for a few seconds, then ostentatiously launched itself into the next lane over, which was moving fractionally faster.


Of course at that moment that lane slowed right down, and mine sped up a bit. The BMW tore back into my lane in exactly the same position as before, right behind me.


This happened another three or four times! It was genuinely uncanny. Every time he made a play for a faster lane, at that exact second it suddenly slowed. Meanwhile I just stayed where I was in the queue, trundling along, and making better progress. Eventually he committed to the centre lane, and I couldn't help but smile as his BMW became a smaller and smaller dot in my rear vision mirror.


I saw him once more, at the offramp for Mounts Bay Road where the traffic frees up. The car looked like a tomcat that's just come home from being 'done' by the vet. He accelerated hard to take a different offramp, but you could tell that he'd been shamed.


Suck it down, kid. The ways of the Freeway are mysterious, and not learnt in a single day.