Is it about a bicycle?

A plague has descended on our roads, a  blight of self-righteous leg pumping, bollox sawing indignation. The cyclists have landed. And they are angry. Last night when I was circumspectly crossing the street I was struck by a cyclist who blustered past me at breakneck speed, knocking me backwards, throwing obscenities back at me over his shoulder as he raced into the distance. Swallowing my pride I caterwauled after him that it was a one way street, that he was cycling down it the wrong way, that I had indeed been watching where I was going but wasn’t watching out for kamikaze cyclists breaking the law. Feeling infinitely better, I continued on my merry way.


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