Folkiedave
Jim Killen, one of our retired politicians who represented a very rural area in north Queensland used to tell this story against himself for many years. Roads in his electorate were mostly unsealed (and thus dusty in the Dry) and had a formed surface that was only 10 feet or so wide. So you waited until the last moment before taking to the shoulder when you saw a vehicle approaching you. As Jim told the story, he could see a dust cloud raised by an approaching vehicle on a road that had quite a few minor crests and dips but waited until the last moment before pulling to the side.

As the car went past, a woman leaned out of the driver's side and yelled out "PIG!" Thinking she was commenting on his lack of road manners he yelled out "BITCH" as she disappeared. In the dust in the next dip he took out the front end of his vehicle when he slammed into a very large feral boar.

Liz (LTS),
Years ago I used to run school camps near Steiglitz, an old goldmining town 60 miles west of Melbourne; I welcomed all sorts of groups but I was a staff member of one particular High School in Melbourne. When this school came down for a week I'd often take some of the students back in the camp's Land Rover ute; this was before seat belts became mandatory.

On one occasion I was returning through Bacchus Marsh and we stopped at the service station for one of the lads to get some lollies for himself and the others in the back; we waited out on the apron. A very flash sports car pulled up for petrol (and, yes; it was red!) driven by a bloke with hair greying at the temples and his shirt open to the waist. I know you'll find this hard to nelieve but he also had a very chunky gold thing on a chain around his neck. And, in the passenger seat, was a very glossy blonde in her 20s, taking in the sun.

The lads in the back of the ute started discussing very animatedly (I couldn't quite catch their drift) and then one called out to the bloke in the sports car.
"What sort of car is it mate?"
"It's a Ferrari!" he proudly declaimed in his best basso profundo.
The lad who'd asked turned to his mate and said,
"See. I told you it wasn't a Datsun!"

Probably my favourite story.

Cheers, Rowan