Taking The Long Way

On Saturday morning I had to drive to Glasgow but as soon as I’d caressed Dana (long story) out of my drive, I got stuck behind a stupid-looking yellow car with loud speakers on the roof. The car was owned by the Scottish National Party and blasting out of the P.A. system was a longwinded speech from their smug leader explaining why we should vote for him in the upcoming election to find a successor to Forrest Whitaker, The Last King of Scotland.

For three or four miles I had to follow this idiot as he annoyed pedestrians and shoppers with whatever raucous rhetoric they could discern in the two seconds it took to drive by them (I mean seriously, what’s the point?) so by the time we got to a set of traffic lights in the busy town centre I’d had enough.

Figuring I had to silence this windbag and give the good townspeople something else to listen to whilst they grabbed their pitchforks and lit their torches, I quickly rolled down all the windows, turned the CD player up to 11 and slipped on the Dixie Chicks singing ‘Not Ready To Make Nice’.

“THAT, my friends, is democracy. And independence,” I announced heartily as I sped out of town displaying a friendly two-fingered gesture.