Dear Lorry Driver on the M6


Dear Lorry Driver on the M6,

Writing to the boy on the pavement made me also remember a moment with you. This one isn’t quite as romantic now is it?

Um so there I was driving on the M6 minding my own business. It was a hot summer’s day, and I had a linen skirt on with a sythetic lining (why do skirts do that by the way? natural fibres are breathable but synthetic ones aren’t, completely ruins point of a cool summer skirt, and um why am I asking you? You are a male lorry driver and probably don’t know the answer to that. Can I say that? middle class political correctness guilt).

Anyhow, I was getting a bit hot and bothered sweaty whilst driving along, so I hoiked my skirt up high to let my legs get some air. Next thing I know the traffic has slowed, I’m in the middle lane, you are alongside me, suddenly you are honking your horn and waving at me! I’ve pulled- on the motorway of all places! You are a bit of a dish so I smile back and straighten myself up, as I realise the reason for all the honking is you had a unobstructed great view of my legs and probably my pants from the lorry cab! *blush* Ahem!

Anyhow the traffic starts to move again, I accelerate away and you wave, you have made me smile so I decide to attempt some car flirting. Bearing in mind I am driving a Renault5 and you are driving a fecking huge Scania, this was like David and Goliath meets Cilla Black.

I pull over into the slow lane and let you “drive up my arse” as it were. You seemed to enjoy that as I recall, well no honking, “go faster you slow stupid woman driver” type road rage from you anyway. I then move over to the middle lane again for a bit and it’s quite romantic. It’s like our two vehicles are out for a drive together, we are smiling at each other, driving along. Then my Renault assertively, flirtily, suggestively leads you up the motorway for a bit again. We carry on this multi-lane weaving flirtation for a while. It is making me giggle alot, and given my journey was 4hours it was welcome albeit dangerous entertainment.

After a while of pulling these motorway moves, you start indicating to go into the services. “Ah well”, thinks I, “Never mind- bye bye sexy lorry driver”. Except um- you start flashing and beeping me frantically. Clearly you had a plan for us to meet in the services! At which point I completely chickened out and carried on driving. Fast. Except you didn’t bloody turn off. Now my happy little M6 flirtation has become somewhat sordid- I am imagining that you didn’t want to take me for a watered down services coffee, rather you intended to take me (or service me?) elsewhere!*

I carry on driving away but now you are keeping pace up with me. My 1.1 engine is no match for your giant many horsepowered one. My turning is coming up and then I realise- “feck if I turn off he might follow me, Fuck fuck fuck why did I start this, I am such an idiot. He will follow me down country lanes- this can only end badly. Arse”. So I accelerate as fast as I can away, I don’t indicate until the very last second and I speed frantically down my turn off giving you no chance to execute the manoeuvre. Given you beeped your horn angrily and stuck two fingers up at me, I suspect my gut feeling not to meet you at the services were the right ones.

Having said that, I am sorry for leading you on, somehow I get the feeling you do that sort of thing a lot (are there really ladies out there who actually would pull into the services with strange lorry drivers, what a sort of sheltered life I lead!?) and I have learned my lesson. In the 10 years since it happened I have never hoiked my skirt up or even attempted to flirt with a vehicle 15 times the size of my own.

Yours (but not really)

LadyLearntALessonButNotThatKindOfGirlCurd

*P.S Although if you write back and state you were honestly only wanting us to have a coffee and maybe share some travel sweets from the WHSmith Kiosk, then I would obviously believe you.

P.P.S This fecking letterwriting malarky has got me all angsty about this kinda stuff and now I have written “not that kind of girl” but also written “Dear Slut“, I think I can feel another LadyCurd Letter coming on…..

Update: and here it is

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3 responses to “Dear Lorry Driver on the M6

  1. Oh, gosh. I thought the end of the story was going to be
    “And then I turned off into my driveway and when I got out of my car, I found out that my bumper was hanging off and he was only trying to warn me!”

  2. Pingback: Dear “Not That Kind Of Girl” | Letters From LadyCurd

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