Can't Cure Stupid

I think, that rather than preventing my kids from leaving the car at the wrong time, I need to child-lock myself in my car sometimes. 

On route to work, I was followed for almost ten minutes by another car with a small child on the front seat. Then on the back seat. Then back to the front. 

In uniform, out of sorts, and stopped at a set of traffic lights, I could bear it no more. 

I got out of my car, knocked on the window, and was about to suggest to driver that an unrestrained child is not only illegal, but it's damned stupid, and that I didn't much fancy the idea of being the medic at the scene of an accident who had to break the news that her child's dead. Because she's stupid.

Stupid wasn't the half of it. 

On the back seat, secured by not one but two seat belts, was a brand new television. 

"Your TV is strapped in, and your child isn't? What's wrong with you?" I didn't mean to yell, but my red-headed temper got the better of me.

As luck would have it, a passing police car saw the altercation and came to tell me off, assuming another road rage incident (they were only partially wrong), only to see the real problem.

I left them to it. 

Rag Dolls

So far this weekend, I've seen several vehicles whose wheels have been in a somewhat naturally untennable position. Here's one that I didn't witness, but makes for shocking viewing!

Watch as the bus is hit. From inside the bus involved. Watch how they all stand mortified at the impending crash, and how they're each affected by it. Like rag-dolls in a washing machine. Makes you wonder how there were no serious injuries, and think about what happens in a crash. Especially when there are unrestrained passengers...

Now THAT's what I call Mechanism of Injury.

Remember - wear your anti rag-doll device. Popularly known as seatbelts.

I tried, didn't I?

A normal residential road, cars parked either side, and a 20 miles per hour speed limit enforced by signs and re-enforced by speed bumps.

I look right and left, see nothing, but hear the screaming engine and decide to wait. The two delicately balanced trays, full of sandwiches, aren't worth risking for the few extra seconds I decide to wait as the car appears round a corner, probably doubling the speed allowed on this road.

No more than ten paces to my right is one of the speed bumps, and the engine is slowed through the gears so that the lowered suspension has every chance of making it over without the raised hump of traffic-calming tarmac causing any damage to the precious undercarriage.

In those seconds, they see me, and the sandwiches.

And as they arrive beside me, they stop.

"Any of those for us?" asks the passenger, a giggly, over made-up and unrestrained girl of probably 18.

"Only if you and your friend buckle up and promise not to drive around like idiots", I reply.

They look at each other, and laugh.

"Nah", says the passenger, "we're not really that hungry!"

Their raucous laughter is soon drowned out by their tyres, as they screech their way down the road.

No Answer

Driving back towards the station after yet another routine call, a set of traffic lights on red sees me pull up alongside another car, a brand new convertible. Warm sunny days are a rarity in this part of the world, and those with convertible cars make the most of them. As soon as the sun is out, the lids come off the car, be it thirty degrees above, or be it ten below.

The car has two occupants, the driver and his passenger, both young, both wearing the uniform of a local bank, and both with no seat belt. I can't help but wonder, somewhat cruelly and not for the first time, whether an unrestrained driver in a convertible flies over or through the windscreen when the car crashes.

Being stopped at the lights gives me the opportunity to have a quick word with the guys in the car. "Seat belts might be a good idea gentlemen!" I was all ready for a comment to the effect of "mind your own business" or just to be completely ignored. Instead, the driver looked over to his passenger, back at me and they both put on their seat belts.

"Thanks".

"Well, we couldn't really say no to you could we? If you'd've been a copper, I'd ignore 'em. But you're not looking to give me a a hard time and a fine. You're only asking 'cos you actually just want us to put the belts on."

"True enough", I said, "I'm just trying not to find the answer to a question I've had for ages."

"You don't want the answer?" Confusion covered his face like a rash.

"No thanks. Not today."

With that, the lights turned green, and we drove our separate ways, confused and pleased in equal measures.

And still, thankfully, with no answer.