nunoncastors

“Get on the road!” a pedestrian shouted as they ran, arms waving, into my path.
“What?”
“Get on the road!”
Swerving to avoid this member of the world police, I slammed on my breaks and skidded to a halt.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing; you’re not supposed to cycle on the pavement! Don’t you read the news?”*
“Yes, but see that sign, the blue one with a bike on it? That means that this bit of tarmac here, the bit that I’m cycling on, this is a cycle path. I’m cycling on a cycle path, like I’m meant to. You’re walking on it, like you’re not. Now get out of the way and stop being a cunt.”
“I…”
“Seriously, get the fuck out of my way and be somewhere else because this, this isn’t helping, this is you being a dickhead. I need you to understand that; you’re a dickhead, a prime example, and you’re in the wrong. Now don’t speak; don’t say another word, just turn around and go away because I’d built up a lot of momentum coming along here and now I have none. You’ve made my journey home considerably harder – thanks for that – and why; because you decided to be a cock. Brilliant, well done.”

Etc.

I don’t think I’m a people person any more.

*A reference, I presume, to this. Which, tragic as it is, is only going to make my life as a cyclist harder.