On the way home last night we noticed we were stuck behine one of them Bentley footballers cars with a number plate ending in KML.
sis and I got to chatting about this and wondered if it might be our injury prone youn talent in the drivers seat. What followed was what can only be described as high speed stalking around the outskirts of Dartford all the way to the m25 junction just before the tunnel.
I'll be honest and admit that my Citroen was no match for the Bentley's muscle. I more than held my own, even catching up at one point by taking the racing line at a roundabout. my driving ability was rewarded by a red traffic light. We pulled alongside and sis eyeballed the driver only to reveal that it was a middle aged balding white guy with a passenger (we surmised they we listening to a mix of Tina Turner, Meatloaf and Phil Collins) who was staring at us. They were probably wondering why for the last five miles they had been chased by a maniac in a cheap car who kept staring at them.
Still it brightened up the journey home no end.
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