On my way to the railway station this morning I got something of a fright. A car came speeding down a hill behind and stopped, it’s front left mounting the pavement inches from my leg. It didn’t screech to a halt, but it wasn’t a controlled stop either.

The driver didn’t seem at all concerned. I suspect he was quite amused that he’d given me a fright. Besides, he had more important things on his mind. He was headed for a shop called Bargain Booze, and was clearly in something of a hurry.

Given the look of the car — a fairly new and spotless white BMW with custom license plates — and the “I have more money than taste” investment banker outfit the guy was wearing, I don’t think he needs to shop in bargain stores. That suggests he spends an awful lot of money on alcohol. Goodness only knows what his driving is like when he’s drunk.

One of these days that guy is going to kill someone. And because he’ll be able to afford the best lawyers he’ll probably get off with a fine that is less than a day’s wages to him. The world, she is not a fair place.