Hey, Mister Ice-Cream Man!
Yes, I am the person who drove behind the Ringy-Dingy truck cheerfully calling “Bring out your dead!” a few years ago, but that was before your time: some other bloke had the franchise then.
I guess we could blame that one on your corporate people: the idea of putting on pretendy “kids tour the factory” sessions, just for a few days, so that nasty legal place for sex-workers couldn’t open in the industrial area, and the girls had to keep working under the radar without protection…. yeah, their fault, not yours. Still, the sanctimoniousness of it all, and the very open sponsorship of the Sending The City Deaf For God Show (now featuring clowns, face-painting, and motorcycle stunts… still no lions!), well, it gives me some sort of expectation that wherever the Ringy-Dingy logo is shown, there will be good, family-values behaviour.
Okay, that’s past baggage, and it’s mine.
I do, however, hold you accountable for the U-turn you took in front of my house, with your attention rivetted to the cell-phone you were using in your right hand at the time.
I plead guilty to shouting “Get off the phone, ya poofter!” at you, and I think you were somewhat offended. Good. I will make a donation to an AIDS charity, because I really shouldn’t have used the term: that’s my only regret.
I am sorry I was a little too busy to shout as you turned your couple of tonnes of truck through a red light, directly across my path, at the Five Ways intersection today.
Keep ringing that stupid little bell: it warns us there’s a dangerous driver in the area.
(By the way, I notice your truck has a surveillance camera on the side. If it records your trips, I hope the corporate guys get a kick out of that turn through a red light: pure class, my son!)
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