"Oh Shit" moments...

I'm pootling along past Woolwich common at 20mph when I become aware of the sound of a car engine behind me.

Closer. Closer. Silver Merc Benz slowly draws level with me, not indicating, and my spidey sense starts to tingle. Lo and behold, Mr Benz decides he wants to turn left at the lights about 20 metres ahead, still not indicating, and begins pulling left as if I wasn't even there. FUUUU.

Luckily a heavy dab of the brakes and a swerve to the right got me clear, but if I hadn't very slightly slowed when I first saw him, I would have probably started my Monday commute with a dash of unsolicited car/tarmac hugging.

This only reinforces my belief that all drivers of (particularly second-hand/older) Benzes are massive twats.

Not just merc's in that area.