We were driving back to work in separate vehicles, after picking the van up from the garage. I was in the freshly-fixed van and Rob was in the boss’s new 3-series BMW. We didn’t agree to race before we set off, but a race it was. We were neck and neck along the M62, him in front, me in front, and so on, depending on the traffic. The only reason he didn’t leave me for dead is because of the amount of traffic, it was busy, but that didn’t stop us really going for it 120 percent. We were so reckless, speeding, weaving in and out of other vehicles, undertaking, tailgating, beeping, and all kinds of other foolishness. It was unbelievable. I think the sheer adrenalin got to us both. We were like children in go-karts, and an absolute disgrace, it has to be said, endangering the lives of others!
For me, the thrill far outweighed any trouble I might cause or get into. It was scary how blinded I was by the buzz. It was like a new feeling in my adult life, it was like being BORN AGAIN and discovering that life was REALLY FUN. The simple fact that I was RACING IN WORK felt like the excitement of 3 Christmases at once. When it came to the turn-off for Widnes, I knew that whoever got to it first would probably win the race back to work.
I was sincerely delighted, at this point, to see Rob level alongside some other car, well and truly boxed in the fast lane by some middle lane hogger, pointing and shouting like a maniac at the driver responsible. For a moment, Rob had forgotten the race completely and was GOING BERSERK in a FIT OF ROAD RAGE at some innocent motorist just as I cruised on to the turn off, laughing hard. Sheer, ecstatic, priceless, giddy joy.