This one’s a funny one.
As you can see, I was just behind this fellow Pat Benatar devotee when I took her photo. Black . Black black, plain, simple, agressive. Tulle tutu. Short. Leather jacket. Simple skate helmet. Truly the anti-lycra. An espresso on wheels.
I’d have snapped her rather excellent red lipstick too, if it weren’t for the Commuter Olympics contender who felt compelled to push in front of me at the lights, because somehow, he could tell just how slow I’d be riding from my stationary pace. What’s wrong with over-taking like a normal vehicle? If, during the flow of traffic you are travelling faster than I am, you indicate your intention to over-take, come out to the right, and pass me.
Next dude who pulls up next to me at the lights and then shuffles his ridiculous self surreptiously in front of me, all without making the slightest bit of eye contact, I am going to pose this rather important question to. Which will hopefully save me the trouble of having to race the poor bugger to the next lights, all the while trying to appear effortless (and very occasionally actually being so). I’m hardly a competitive soul, but if there’s one thing that gets me narky, it’s bad bike manners.
eleanor j jackson 