HARK! Is that the sound of a knobhead in a modded-up Golf? How courteous to noisily warn us of his impending presence. Listen for these sounds:
Popping turbo charger
Unlike the joyful mini-explosion of a party popper, the sound of a turbocharger on a pimped-up Subaru does not herald good times. With the smoked-glass window acting as an exhaust for weed fumes there’s no mistaking the arrival of a class A knobhead. Heed the warning and avoid.
A bass riff vibrating through tarmac like a minor earthquake could go either way: boy racer in a Citroen Saxo, or middle-aged marketing knobhead in a gleaming Volvo SUV with full service history, a boot full of multi-use compost and the full works of Snoop Dogg downloaded onto his iPhone 13 Pro Max? Either way’s a twat.
Panting pit bull
Short, stocky, drooling at the mouth and ready for a fight, then you look down and see they’re holding the lead of a pit bull. This boy and his dog take no prisoners on the streets, and the panting is sufficient warning to get out of the way of this pavement-dominating tool.
The bellowing of an arsehole name
Could be a middle-class mum shouting Isambard, could be an underclass mum calling Mason. Whichever, it means there’s a child with no limits on their vile behaviour coming your way and whether the follow-up shout is ‘Get out of that direct sunlight’ or ‘Give me back my WKD you little shit’, you should leave before the child happens to you.
The klaxon of a Mr Boombastic or some f**king meme ringtone is a sure sign of an approaching knobhead. Such is this monster’s need for attention that, like Medusa, he will petrify you into listening to the excruciating show-off bullshit of his business call before you can launch his phone into a well.