Truck drivers call me a c*nt

I cycled to work this morning and this guy getting into his truck almost hit me when opening his door, which I swerved, but was close because on the other side of me is a giant garbage truck doing its rounds narrowing me in.

I was like “wooaaah” when dipping around him and as I cycle off I hear him screaming like a hound that’s been guzzling gravel “you fvcking c*unt”.

“Ah dude… Why’d you have to go there?” I think to myself as I pull on my breaks and about turn.

I confront the yellow-teethed dickhead saying, “You opened your door to oncoming traffic, which I swooped, don’t be a dickhead!”

After a few verbal insults exchanged, the truck driver from behind Yellow-teeth hops out of his van and heads over, ripping at his shirt to expose the giant “S” on his chest and beer belly – holy shit, its Supervan-man!

This bellend then feels he’s obligated to get involved and makes an alliance with Yellow-teeth, saying I can’t shout at his compatriot for no reason.

Well, first of all Supervan-man, your damsel in distress has a mouth on her, and if you wanna know how to get under my skin, screaming “you fvcking c*nt” is a good place to start.

I’m like, “fvck you guys, whatever” and turn to my colleagues who coincidently cycled by at this stage. Dustin is totally not interested if I get beaten by greasy, fat knuckles and has long gone (I don’t blame him, to be honest).

The two truck drivers shake hands (lol) and jerk each other off. And I watch Yellow-teeth close his truck door, which is stuck together with duct tape!

Go figure.

At the traffic light ahead, Supervan-man goes at it saying why am I yelling at Yellow-teeth… So I share my reasoning for Yellow-teeth’s unnecessary screech to which Supervan-man replies, “well you are a c*nt”.

Thanks London!