Last night, somewhere on Beach Road in the bays (being deliberately vague here for what should be obvious reason - I'm tired of those Jehovah's Witnesses door knocking), we were sitting chatting at home, when all of a sudden a loud crash, bang, smack comes from the road.
We raced outside to see a Subaru Legacy unwedging itself from the traffic island, and then drive off. We figured it was a boy racer, and so we laughed, deep belly laughs at his expense.
About 10 minutes later, we hear a car, obviously sans tire (the sound of rim on road is distinctive), and we look out to see a flash of the same Subaru Legacy...
About 5 minutes after that, suddenly, there are no less than 7 cops cars across at the beach, cornering the legacy, which had driven itself off the road.
This has a point.
It turns out the driver was a 60 year old Fucktard who was stupidly (meaning couldn't walk) drunk. A biker had seen all this happen, and raced over and grabbed the keys, forced the Fucktard out of the car - some bystanders had called the police - the biker, obviously worried that he had overstepped the mark by removing said FuckTard forcefully, left them all to it.
I just wanted to say to the biker - thank you; that's our stretch of road, where our friends and families play and walk, and where we walk through 10 times a day to walk the dogs - and if it had of been me, I wouldn't have been able to not break his legs.
Well done Fella.
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