Late indication


The indicator lights on a car are not there for the driver’s pleasure. They’re not a kind of rudimentary on-board entertainment system that plays a metronomic beat to herald your decision to veer left or right on the motorway or to take that turn-off. No sir, they are there to indicate to other drivers (hence their name) that you are about to alter trajectory so that we, the humble plebs that share the roads you career down, will have some kind of advanced warning that you are about to slow down or change lane or pull out in front of us. In doing so, we can anticipate your desired movement and adjust our own navigation appropriately.

Indicating at the very moment you perform your manoeuvre or, my personal favourite, halfway through the completion of said operation IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING POINTLESS. You are no longer forewarning us of your intentions; you are merely arrogantly proclaiming what you’ve done without having given us any opportunity to react accordingly. It’s like snogging a woman and then asking if it’s ok to kiss her. Invariably, it’s not.

And to add insult to narrowly avoided injury, when they finally do get round to flipping that lever at the side of their steering wheel, they leave it on for mere microseconds! They give it enough time to activate for one solitary flash and figure that’s enough. One flash! Literally, blink and you’d miss it. It’s a typically cavalier attitude for someone with obviously no concern for the well-being of their fellow human-beings.

Note to these kinds of drivers: I don’t have psychic powers – if I did, your head would have been telekinetically exploded by now.

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