TWO FINGERS

I’ve been given the middle finger twice this week. Two drivers, both behind me, both flipping the bird as they’ve sailed on by.

Now. I’ve got loads of questions. Here’s the answer to the most obvious one: no, I was driving at the speed limit, and I think, quite normally. Let’s get that one out of the way.

Weird. The first car: small, white, lights glinting with neon. I spotted him slaloming behind me up a hill, slightly erratically. Two young men in the front, the driver probably showing off for the passenger’s amusement. I pulled into a side road to let him overtake, the passenger stuck up a finger as they raced up the hill.

Second. A red Volkswagen Golf, initially right behind me, almost nosing the boot. I decided to stick rigidly to the 30 mph speed limit to see what would happen.

He dropped back. I slowed down at traffic lights and then punched away as soon as they turned green. He followed. I went right at the next roundabout, he went left. As he turned, a very tanned arm extended from his driver’s side window and a finger told me exactly what he thought of me.

I can’t wait for the next time. What does it all mean? I mean I kind of know what the finger means, unless it’s changed since the 80s. I just can’t work out why I’m being told to swivel for no reason, by little boys who weren’t born in a year that began with a 1.

Sammy suggested my car might be similar to a local drug dealer perhaps, or that I’m being mistaken for someone else. I can’t see dealers in cars like mine though. If they’re driving 2008 Toyota Aurises, they’re not exactly hitting the big time. And anyway I’d at least expect the police to have pulled me over to check I’m not Pablo Escobar.

It might just be that the world is trying to be harsher than it used to be. Everyone in a colossal rush, boys annoyed with people who stick to the speed limit, rudeness modelled on TV and YouTube for most of their lives. Though I don’t know what they hope to achieve by the katapygon. If my driving is bad, being flipped off doesn’t help me get better at it. It just baffles me.

Plus, it’s odd isn’t it, how the more you see a gesture, the more amusing it gets. Perhaps, like Mr Bean in that film, I should see it as a kind of wave, a happy little greeting from fellow drivers who are having great days and want me to have the same. That way, I’m unaffected by the nastiness, they go on to have exactly the same kind of day they would have had anyway and everything else remains the same. Though unlike Mr Bean, I’m not silly enough to do it back.

I wasn’t actually offended either time. I’m curious about why, and I was puzzled that it happened so quickly in succession. But I wasn’t upset.

Finally, whatever happened to the two-fingers? That uniquely British insult, the V sign, the forks, the ‘Harvey salute’ - seems to have been replaced these days with the ubiquitous one-fingered birdie. Or maybe French archers have just gotten over the fact that we’ve still got all of our bow fingers intact, shrugging it off as ‘c’est la vie’.

Well. If it happens again, maybe I’ll figure it out. And maybe I’ll just smile back and hope that the finger-putter-upper has a better day than they wished on me.