Well, ok, not all other cyclists but definitely some of them … actually, it’s really just this one guy. You see, I cycle to work, the pub, my friend’s houses and pretty much everywhere else in-between because I don’t have a car. Not because I can’t drive, I might add, and nor do I wish to maintain a low carbon footprint whilst ethically transporting my fat ass all over the place, saving the planet through calf tattoos and ironic hair, no, but because I can’t be bothered spending the money on one at the moment. I live in a city, they’re expensive, there’s no point.
Anyway, I cycle. I’m a cyclist. It is a thing that I do daily and in intermittent fear for my life because, well, cars. Which, I have to say, I get. The frustration of sitting in traffic, of being stuck behind a big fella like me as I slog up a hill during rush hour is understandable and sometime that makes you drive like a prick. Understandable. Could you sometimes consider the fact that you’re almost killing me in a race to a red light yards away that won’t change for another minute and, you know, not do that, sure. But I get it, I do.
What I don’t get, is this guy. This guy in his high-viz vest – because blistering thirty degree sunshine reduces visibility apparently – with his helmet camera, his billion reflective strips and enough assorted other pieces of safety gear for a peloton of riders. What I don’t get is this guy, why Captain Road Safety himself in his look at me, I’m all responsible and safe ‘n’ shit paraphernalia, why he just sails past me at a red light and straight across a junction. Not just a normal junction though. No, a decent, sensible junction where the lights are phased so that if you wait for the green, like a normal person, by the time you get to the second more dangerous junction, those lights turn green as you get there and you’re on the way. It’s like someone thought that shit out.
I pondered what the fuck as I sat at the lights and watched him bimble across the junction, trundle up to the second set of lights and stop all of two hundred yards away. I mean, is he trying to be safe or does he want to ride like an ass? Are all the flashing lights and shit just to ensure the maximum number of people see him while he’s you’re being a dick? He’s clearly not in a rush because he’s bimbling and if that’s the case, then why jump the lights? He’s got nowhere. Though he has made the bus driver behind me a bit annoyed, first by getting in the way and then by jumping the lights. So that’s good. Another road user fucked off at someone on a bike because that’s just what we need.
So what, what is it? Because I don’t get it, I really don’t. I was going to ask the guy but, frankly, who’s got time for that? It’s not like some bearded dude in lycra’s going to change his attitudes to being a tit and, let’s face it, he’s going to get his dumb ass knocked off sooner or later and that’ll solve that. Still, Jesus Christ, man. What are you doing?