Get Youself A Road Tax, And Get Yourself A Bloody Car, Man!
That was the parting shot from the driver who’d almost run straight into me yesterday as they drove up the wrong side of the road. In fairness, I’d probably not got the conversation off to the best start - when someone’s just made a passable attempt to kill me, I sometimes use some rather colourful language.
Her excuse was that "the sun was in her eyes" (it was actually off to one side), and it was "only an accident" (well that’s OK then).
Bah.
If I were slightly quicker at the verbal comeback, my reply would have been,
"Get yourself a bike, and try eating just slightly fewer pies"
Next time, maybe.
We’re all used to getting this from men, but increasingly I’m getting this from mad menopausal women too. It happened yesterday. I wouldn’t have been so surprised except I she was walking at the time, and so was I. I just happened to be wearing a T-shirt with a bike on it.
Anyway, I’ve found a particularly effective line is ‘I bet you used to be quite good looking when you were much younger’. One day I must try to use it.
Ah the old sun in the eyes thing.
I normally affect a far away look and go “Ah, jes, like ze Red Baron, ja?”
It never occurs to them that when visibility isn’t great, they might slow down and take more care, bless them.
I know the problem of having all the smart comebacks an hour later. It afflicts me, two hours after an incident I’ve got all the witticisms lined up. I’m thinking of writing down ten good ones and sticking them to my handlebars.
I’d end up with them stuck to my handlebars, top tube, written up each arm . . . Let’s face it, I couldn’t stop at just ten!