Help at last in my war on litterbugs

IT’S a miracle no one has punched me in the face yet.

The definition of insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly, expecting a different result.

And yet I’m unable to stop myself asking anyone who drops litter to please pick it up, even though it has never gone well.

So although some see it as recruiting the public as spies, I’m all for Buckinghamshire being hopefully among the first of many councils to ask people for footage of drivers tossing rubbish from cars so they can be fined £500.

Martin Tett, the leader of the council, has come over all Liam Neeson in Taken, promising: “It doesn’t matter where you live. If we’ve got the number plate and evidence of it happening, we will find you.”

In the scheme, to be introduced in August, staff will check out the videos and photos taken on phones or dashcams

– and if there’s clear proof, the keeper of that vehicle will be liable for the fine.

There will be no discount for paying it quickly, and it will double to £1,000 if not settled within 28 days. Guilty parties will also have to wear sandwich boards saying I AM A DISGUSTING LITTERBUG for one full year.

OK that last bit was wishful thinking, although feel free to steal it, Bucks – or any other council.

The financial challenges local

governments currently face mean there simply isn’t the budget for endless clean up operations.

And as Martin says: “On our country lanes, you will see mile after mile of waste paper, plastic bottles, tin, cans — all sorts of stuff chucked out of car windows. It’s one of the things that people hate most.” Correct - because it’s so selfish, gross, and unjust, which is why I can’t stop pulling people up on it, despite it being probably dangerous and definitely pointless.

I’ve tried every tactic possible when it comes to confronting those discarding unwanted items on the streets, from the innocently super helpful – “Sorry, I think you’ve dropped something?” – to the direct – “Sorry, but you need to throw that in a bin.”

Note that all strategies begin with me, the noble hero of the tale, apologising to the terrible baddie doing wrong. I am British after all.

Once, sitting in traffic, the door of the car in front of me opened and a hand nonchalantly placed a

Mcdonald’s bag full of rubbish on the road next to it.

I was so incensed that if the lights hadn’t changed at that moment, I would have jumped out, grabbed it and thrown it back in their window.

And probably now be a full time hopper, after having my foot driven over.

My worst stand-off came when someone in a cashpoint queue blew their nose on a tissue and then threw it on the pavement.

I politely asked him to please pick up the snot-filled parcel. He refused, replying: “If it bothers you so much, you pick it up.”

This is what I believe is known in the trade as stalemate. The rest of the time spent in that queue was just as relaxed and comfortable as you imagine.

My first mistake was that I didn’t hide my disgust at what he’d done… actually no, my first mistake was saying anything at all, wasn’t it, because presumably no litterbug ever challenged has immediately seen the error of their ways, apologised profusely, and lived the rest of their life differently, grateful for the education provided.

Appealing to them, asking them nicely, doesn’t work.

That’s why we need to start grassing them up instead.

In this case, snitches don’t get stitches, because they’ll clean up our ditches.

If we’ve got the number plate and evidence, we will find you

£500 FINE Council call for footage