The law is an Ass.

It’d be great if it was wouldn’t it? Well yes, I’ve just burgled your house in broad daylight, sexually abused the dog and sold your children into slavery but hey what’s that DONKEY going to do about it?”

But even allowing for nonsensical animal metaphors, it really is. I may, in a moment of unconsidered candour, admitted to being red-green colour blind when it comes to those bastions of the highway code; the humble traffic light. In a volte-face even more brazen than Sven’s tactical mastery of his forward line, I made a silent pledge to respect the red this morning. I was the only one. Entire legions of cyclists from Tour de France Wannabe’s to Halfords specials breezily ran the lights much to the consternation of crossing pedestrians and crosser motorists.

While I was trailing notionally in this rolling roadblock, my place astride the moral high ground was uncontested. Oh the glorious hypocrisy of my strident pleas for us pedal pushers to respect the highway code. Growling asshole” at every RLJ’r, I felt a faint surge of pride at my restraint “ either than or it was a somewhat unplanned bowel movement. And as only non light running colleague muttered it’s not like I want to get to work any earlier”. Good point, well made.

So as I wafted into the changing room borne aloft on a lingering sense of worthiness, the mobile crime scene that is riding in London slammed the door behind me. Someone had stolen my deodorant. Yep, nicked, filched, ˜arf inched “ however you want to categorise it, a fellow commuting bloke (unless it was a very self confident women desperately in need of a quick blast of Lynx) has had it away on the hoof.

While I’ve become immune to the threat of damp towels, the occasional ˜borrowed’ shower gel and fair weather squatters stealing my space, this is way beyond the acceptable direction of travel. I wouldn’t have missed a couple of cheeky squirts in the spirit of shared smelliness but the entire bloody tin?

So I’ll be filling my ˜hot spare’ with pepper spray and installing a couple of trip wires and web cans to catch the bounder on camera. Failing that, pass me the donkey.

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