Well, I've finished moving from the south-east of Melbourne to the north-west. Probably should give at least a brief update on what it's like out here. This description of a typical drive home from work will have to do for now.
It's night-time, perhaps a little after 10pm, as I'm cruising down the freeway on my way home. It's been mere days since I moved to this new suburb, but I'm slowly starting to get to know the general layout. First one freeway, then an adjoining exit/entrance, then a second freeway and finally residentia.
The car in front of me is doing a leisurely ninety. I'm in no rush and with the connecting road coming up on the left I refrain from overtaking it.
The new lane opens up on the freeway for those turning off and I begin to languidly contemplate flicking an indicator on and drifting over.
No chance.
As I sit there stunned with one hand frozen on the indicator stick, the car behind me explodes into action and jerks into the half-formed lane, asserting its ownership of the road from time zero. Windows down, it accelerates past with the faint odour of rapidly dispersing cigarette smoke: two lively chicks in the back; male driver with a cigarette dangling from his fingers in the front; another passenger next to the driver, possibly male. Walloping basslines blast out as it thunders off onto the exit: the speakers probably counting for half the weight of the car. Which isn't as impressive as you might at first think, given the cheap blue plastic look of the body that's been pimped out with more lights and bling than a two-dollar-shop's christmas tree.
In quick succession the blue car is followed by a yellow convertible and a mean metallic green number. Yellow is smooth and curvy, shiny and compact, sporting a cliched lavendar vanity plate and a nondescript chick in the driver's seat. Green is angular, bulky, grunty. Though it's a warm night, all windows are fully up, and in contrast to the other two cars, the only sound it's emitting comes from the engine. Starlight glistens on the three Gigeresque ridges undulating along its side as it tears past.
By this point my lane has split and the car in front continues on straight ahead, leaving me open to peal off onto the dual-lane exit ramp that connects up with the second freeway. The cars ahead are slowly distancing themselves from me as I floor the accelerator approaching the first S-bend. The exit speed is posted at eighty, but you're not really trying unless your speedo is kissing one-ten.
Yellow car makes an early bid to get past Blue and stumbles across to my lane like a drugged-to-the-gills octagenarian. First there's the slight drift over the road's dividing line with a pause, followed by a lurch all the way into the right lane that actually results in somewhat of an overshoot, before a correction brings it back. There's no point in having ample shoulder on either side of the road, after all, if people aren't making full use of it.
Green car sticks behind Blue in the left lane. Close, but not too close. Probably doesn't want to run afoul of Yellow's erratic driving.
Blue car has a slight lead, with Yellow maybe half a length behind it. At this point, Green is stuck in third position, unable to get past the effective blockade.
As the road whips to the right, Yellow is a little slow to react and ends up somewhat over its lane and partially into the left. Blue car has drifted a little further out to compensate, but the two cars are still pretty damn close. Blue driver doesn't look too phased: he's got two hands on the wheel now, with the cigarette clamped in his mouth. The two chicks in the back are going apeshit, however, with one yelling at the front passenger as she jostles forward between the seats and the other screaming abuse out the window. Yellow driver is paying no attention to the verbal tirade, but that's probably because she's trying to stop the vehicle from sliding further out.
The road straightens out for the merest of distances, allowing but a moment's respite before snapping back to the left. Yellow takes the bend late again, this time swinging wide to the right, half on the outer shoulder. Blue is on the inside now, but can't gain any ground. Both cars are struggling with the curves at such speeds, but unwilling to back off. As for Green car, it seems to be handling the bends fairly well, but has had no opportunity with the blue and yellow barrier in front.
The road snakes back for a final bend as we approach the entrance to the second freeway. Yellow car, in an attempt to avoid repeating history, takes the bend early. Too early. The convertible sticks to the right shoulder, this time riding the inside of the road quite severely.
This was the opportunity that Green had been waiting for. Two lanes? Fuck that. Green car slices across into a tighter radius despite having already entered the final bend and hung there, left wheels cutting dead straight over the dashed line as it split the lanes. Its nose poises for the briefest of moments between the arses of Blue and Yellow, ensuring it would have the clearance it needed. Green then floors the accelerator, engine roaring as it tears through the narrow strait. Side mirrors must have had five centimetres clearance tops from either car, but it's enough. As the road spills onto the second freeway, Green roars off in a blitz of speed; now well clear of its companions; now a blur in the distance; now just a dimming speck cresting the horizon.
Two eternities and half a lifetime later I eventually merge onto the freeway myself. With a bare handful of cars in sight, I head onward home, sedately cruising through the night.
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