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Oliver Schick
Wrongcog
Heading home along the Eastway past the Olympic Park. I'm on a single speed shopper, loaded Carradice, wearing jeans and pottering along. This total MAMIL in full kit comes past me leaving inches to spare, slides in right under my front wheel and gradually begins to decelerate. I say "close enough champ?" - which he ignores... then (and this is the icing on the commuter cake) he flicks the elbow. At first I thought it must be the onset of some sort of fit brought about by over exertion - but no, he slows again and gives it the flick. Cheeky fucker!
I obliged by going round him and dropping him... What a legend! I mean I'm partial to a dreamy disposition but I never built a breakaway out of a bald 40 year old bloke trundling home on an equally ancient post bike.