A beastly tracksuit clad ‘woman’ confronted me in a local shopping centre car park two weeks ago. When she pulled out of her parking spot without looking, an instinctive brake slam saved me a smashed bonnet and the cost it would have incurred. Neither was on my wish list for Christmas.

She took her sweet time to turn and be on her merry way, probably because she couldn’t operate the steering wheel with her giant cloven hooves. I tried to pass only to be immediately blocked. She took a full minute and a half to lever herself out of the driver’s seat, intent on hauling me over the coals for my insolence.

She bellowed obscenities at me like a wounded bison, and finished it off with an intense livid stare. Satisfied with herself, she undertook the challenge of cramming herself back into her car in a manner that was most unbecoming of a woman.