“No, you’re the dickhead!” shouted the previously uninvolved motorist from his position in the gridlock. And you know what, mate? Maybe I am.
Maybe I am because I choose the sustainable, healthier, and (at 8:45am) way quicker mode of transport for me and my daughter.
Maybe I am because I think cycling to créche through the park on a winter’s morn will invigorate and educate a curious three-year-old.
Maybe I am because everyday, while putting her helmet on and strapping her into her bike seat, I do a balance sheet of risk Vs benefits for this journey. The margin is always slim.
Maybe I am because I object to the guy in the 4×4 veering onto the wrong side of the road and cutting us off – just so he could take the turn a little sooner.. and sit in the other queue a little longer.
Maybe I am because I got a fright, got protective, got angry, got loud, made a hand gesture.
maybe it’s you too, Mister previously uninvolved motorist?
Because that hand gesture, thrown while cycling and barely concealed from my pre-school passenger, wasn’t the one for ‘dickhead’, it was the one for ‘tosser’.
Get it right, eh? You tosser.
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