But if they won't stop for red lights because they'll be late for work, how will they stop by at Will's stall?
They'll be hours late after listening politely to his reminiscences of working life in a 1960's coal mining town, starting out with fond recollections of freshly baked bread cooling on hardwood windowsills, the honest dirt on the calloused hands of kindly old Mr. Noakes at the cycle shop as he was shown how to mend his first puncture... But sadly, as ever, these wistful anecdotes will soon turn into a bitter, wrath filled rant against "those bastards in t' town hall" and the "the scum" before the poor commuters can mutter their weak excuses and scurry to their hybrids.
But if they won't stop for red lights because they'll be late for work, how will they stop by at Will's stall?
They'll be hours late after listening politely to his reminiscences of working life in a 1960's coal mining town, starting out with fond recollections of freshly baked bread cooling on hardwood windowsills, the honest dirt on the calloused hands of kindly old Mr. Noakes at the cycle shop as he was shown how to mend his first puncture... But sadly, as ever, these wistful anecdotes will soon turn into a bitter, wrath filled rant against "those bastards in t' town hall" and the "the scum" before the poor commuters can mutter their weak excuses and scurry to their hybrids.