I was driving to work today when I was actually forced into oncoming traffic to avoid covering my car with the blood of another cyclist. I’d only just removed the bones of the cyclist I hit last week from my radiator.
Now I have nothing against what you’re doing. I tried to be fit once, but I think I’ll only try again when I’m morbidly obese or when I can count to ten in between heart beats. What bothers me though, is that you cretins insist on riding five abreast so that you can have a jolly good chat. This, while hard working Saffas are on their way to do some actual work.
So in the first place, I’m angry because I’m on my way to do work which I don’t really want to do, while you can find the time to shave your legs, exercise, and discuss exactly why John thinks his wife’s cheating. Maybe it’s because her husband shaves his legs.
I approach gangs of cyclists, in a horizontal line across the road, giving each other high-fives because they’re all so amped to get that perfect V- shaped torso. I hoot wildly, flip them off, and then they have the indignation to give me the finger I gave to them. I’m sorry, but the last time I checked a car is a little more indestructible than a bike. You also do not have any kind of moral high ground, because I’m the one who is smart enough to be travelling in a nice, heated car where I can enjoy my Led Zep at volume. I’m also smart enough to know that you don’t need a perfect body to attract the ladies, you need to be a fat politician with a tender.
I get that South Africa does not have bicycle lanes. That’s the governments’ fault. But they did build you roads where you can cycle in single file. We’re told that 40% of all road deaths and injuries come from motorbikes, cyclists and pedestrians. The Automobile Association of South Africa came up with this gem: “always yield to cyclists”. They must be having a laugh.
Here’s my tip. If you insist on doing this “my body is a temple” thing in the middle of the road, be afraid. Be very afraid.