Warning (although a bit late, I grant you) - SWEARS.
Every week, I try to get out for at least an hour's cycle. It's hilly where I live, so it's a bit of a challenge for an oldie like me to pedal up those hills. I get severe thigh wobble.
I was struggling up one of those aforesaid hills a couple of hours ago - no traffic behind me - when I heard two hoots of a horn. I looked up to see a guy, passing me on the other side of the road, making the universal Farage wanker sign. At me.
I don't think I was doing anything wankery. Admittedly, I was in my Granniest Gear, going slowly - slower than a slug, a sloth, a ... um... stick - but as he was belting it a bit, he wouldn't have known that. Could it have been what I was wearing? A pink top and yes, lycra trousers. Possibly. Some people who wear lycra ARE wankers.
But then some people are just wankers, aren't they?
So I don't think it was my clothing. And I don't think it was my bike or my bike helmet, either. Both are pretty old and crusty, not out of the ordinary. A bit battered. Sort of 'blend in', shabby chic. (Or just a bit shit.)
I'm at a loss. But I'm not that bothered. Because, on reflection, I suspect that the real wanker in this cameo was him. My evidence is this:
1. I was doing nothing wrong (apart from having wobbly thighs), yet he made the wanker sign. Conclusion: he must be a bit of a wanker.
2. He was speeding. Now I do, at times, speed. But on this occasion, my speed rating was almost negative. That is, crawling babies were overtaking me. In fact, it was he who was speeding. So I think that he's a bit more of a wanker than me.
3. He was wearing sunglasses, even though it was about to rain. I wear sunglasses sometimes, but generally only when it's sunny. His wanker rating is increasing.
4. His black BMW had tinted windows. I know someone who has tinted windows on their car, but I don't think that makes me a wanker. Now, I think, he's almost reaching the highest wanker categorisation of MEGA wanker.
5. He obviously hates cyclists. And the Wanker Rating of eleven is complete.
So I would like to present to the Blogging Community that it is not, in fact, I, who am the wanker. But rather the twatty, idiotic, arsehole who passed me when I was minding my own business, struggling up a steep hill.
I thank you. And goodnight.