I am sure we have all had one - here's what I consider to be my nearest:
I was working on a Volvo Estate on the hard shoulder of the M25. I had parked my van the usual 25/30ft behind the Volvo. An old guy appeared with the biggest paper map of the M25 I had ever seen, and started asking for directions to wherever. I told him to drive past us on the inside, use the hard shoulder to accelerate to the relevant speed, join the traffic and go away. He walked away mumbling to himself. After a short time, I heard multiple horns and screeching tyres. I looked up just in time to see matey in the second lane travelling around 20mph, with his map completely obscuring his windscreen. Cars were breaking and swerving in all directions. I just braced myself waiting for an impact. A car went past on the inside sideways, followed by another. Then it all seemed to go quiet except for traffic tyre noise. I looked at the owner of the Volve, and he was looking at my hands. I was holding the frame X-member where the bonnet latches which now had perfect indents of my fingers where I had crushed it. I finished fixing his car, and before he drove off, I told him how he could claim for a new X-member. He looked at me and smiled, before telling me that he had no intention of replacing or repairing it as it would prove the great story he would tell his mates down the pub.
I was working on a Volvo Estate on the hard shoulder of the M25. I had parked my van the usual 25/30ft behind the Volvo. An old guy appeared with the biggest paper map of the M25 I had ever seen, and started asking for directions to wherever. I told him to drive past us on the inside, use the hard shoulder to accelerate to the relevant speed, join the traffic and go away. He walked away mumbling to himself. After a short time, I heard multiple horns and screeching tyres. I looked up just in time to see matey in the second lane travelling around 20mph, with his map completely obscuring his windscreen. Cars were breaking and swerving in all directions. I just braced myself waiting for an impact. A car went past on the inside sideways, followed by another. Then it all seemed to go quiet except for traffic tyre noise. I looked at the owner of the Volve, and he was looking at my hands. I was holding the frame X-member where the bonnet latches which now had perfect indents of my fingers where I had crushed it. I finished fixing his car, and before he drove off, I told him how he could claim for a new X-member. He looked at me and smiled, before telling me that he had no intention of replacing or repairing it as it would prove the great story he would tell his mates down the pub.
