.. but then he did sort of apologise. So that’s alright then.
No, actually, it bloody isn’t. Riding past the exact same spot where some old fella parked his Mercedes on my nose this time last year, this guy gave the give way a miss and instead tried to hit me. Well, to be fair, he wasn’t really trying as his attention was focussed on the far more important mobile phone conversation he was having.
“Yeah sorry Nigel, just drove clean through this cyclist, he’s still moving tho so once I’ve cleared his broken body from under my wheels, we’ll do lunch, yeah? Have your people call my people, Capish?”
Had I not taken radical avoiding action involving a traffic island and a sharp intake of breath, they’d have been blood on the tarmac. As I swung in an ever widening arc to avoid the front of his one handed cavalier entrance to the Mall, he finally noticed either my concerned gesticulations or spluttering vernacular.
“Sorry mate, didn’t see you there” he offered in spite of my plethora of lights and reflective clothing. I look like a mobile gas excavation and possibly smell a little like one too after this morning’s one second shower. I had sufficient breath left to quietly explain that if he wouldn’t mind “putting his fucking phone down and looking where he was sodding well going” this may never have happened.
“Oh if that’s your bloody attitude then mate, you can fuck off“. Just to be clear, this anti-apology was from Mr. Knobhead. Yes I was wronged but he still felt he was right – personality defect or caring new century?
He roared off in a frenzy of tyre smoke and testosterone leaving me wondering if apologies speak louder than actions. After grudgingly saying sorry, he couldn’t believe that I’d still be upset – after all, he’d not actually killed me only had a damn good attempt.
World’s gone mad. Time to leave the planet.
Nice. I’d have put a severe DMR V8 mark in his door.
Should never have changed to SPD’s 🙁 Still I shall now be carrying an air horn and some ground to ground missiles for any future altercations.
And you didnt follow him home with an axe? Very restrained i think. Knob.
I find a metal, frame fitting pump (such as a Zefal HPX) to be VERY useful in these situations. It”s also good against marauding dogs.
A golf ball sized pebble kept in the pocket can be very effective when applied to a window at high velocity. Especially if wearing gloves means there will be no fingerprints.
For such an amiable chap Grahame you are properly violent. You’ve given me an idea tho – mix the golf ball rock AND the pump together and you’ve got a portable blow pipe.
Now we’re talking…
Or fasten a bit of cord around the pump – bingo, a slingshot!
The less violent approach includes keeping a full waterbottle on the bike – your choice of liquid.
Properly violent? You never saw me playing football at school. One junior school report said “Grahame is very mild in the classroom, but on the football pitch he becomes fearless.” I was 8 at the time, and quite happy to put in two-footed tackles on kids who were nearly twice my size. Perhaps having Sunday coaching sessions with Graeme Souness wasn’t such a good thing?
“Perhaps having Sunday coaching sessions with Graeme Souness wasn™t such a good thing?”
Explains the haircut then mate 🙂
Handlebar mounted paintball gun 🙂
With another paintball pistol straped to the seat post for those awkward angles.
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