Melbourne has a bit of a reputation for ‘driving angry’. If you’re not watching for the light to turn green, and you’re slow to take off… expect to hear the driver in the car behind you beeping. Sometimes it is just a friendly reminder. Other times, you’re actually being reprimanded or abused.

My driving has certainly become more confident… and more aggressive during my time here. Several years ago, however, it hit a peak… coinciding, I later realised, with the peak in my stress levels. During this time, discourteous drivers irritated me like never before… and I wasn’t afraid to let it show.

Rather stupidly (as I now see), I managed to get myself into a few altercations with delivery drivers… usually because they’d cut me off or something similar, and my hand would be straight on the horn… to which they expressed their displeasure. It never actually came to the point where anyone left their vehicles… but I think that was more a matter of luck than anything else. When it comes down to it, whilst I may be able to hold my own as far as yelling goes (with or without obscenities), my size means that I am far from intimidating… so in any standoff, I’d have come off second best.

The encounter that prompted me to review my reactions occurred one morning whilst I was on my way to work (in 2003). Part of the journey involved a drive up quite a long hill. On this particular morning, I realised that the lane in which I was driving had cars parked further up the hill, requiring me to changed lanes. There was plenty of room beside me, so I indicated to move over. A van driver in that lane, seeing my indicator flashing, sped up to prevent me from moving over. I was frustrated by this deliberate act, but decided that I’d wait for him to go past, then move in behind him.

As we continued up the hill, he dropped back again. Seeing my chance, I indicated again and changed lanes. It shouldn’t have been a problem… he wouldn’t even have had to slow down for me. He, however, saw things differently… and held his hand on the horn to let me know his disapproval… keeping it there as we drove on.

Incensed by this, I slowed my car to about 20km/hour. He had nowhere to go, so we continued this slow, noisy crawl further up the hill. Eventually we passed the parked cars, and he was quick to jump into the lane beside me and start yelling obscenities. What I don’t think he was expecting, was for me to put down my passenger side window and hurl a number of choice phrases right back. We were still travelling slowly at this stage… with a queue of peak-hour traffic behind us.

At the top of the hill, I turned off towards my work… and he continued on to his own destination. It was only later that day, when I told friends of the incident, and saw the looks of horror on their faces, that I realised how risky my behaviour was. Really, I was lucky that he hadn’t been ticked-off enough to do anything more than yell at me. If I’d picked the wrong guy to argue with, or even if he’d had more time on his hands, things could have turned out quite differently.

I can look back at this now, and see that it was a symptom of my stress levels at the time. These days I’m much less stressed, and much more aware of my actions and reactions. I still become irritated by inconsiderate drivers, but my reactions have mellowed. Reaching my destination safely is now the higher priority.