Riding home this evening through Camberwell (home of the mentals, FACT), I spotted up ahead one of those pavement drifters. You know the sort, wandering about all over the pavement like they're in a slow motion pinball machine. I was slowing down for lights and the guy just stepped out - backwards - into the road. I did the only two things I could: brake really fucking hard and give him a Cav-style shoulder barge, so hard he ended up back on the pavement. He turned, slowly, towards me and gave me a look that was made up of seven shades of mental. Then he spat on me and walked off.
I turned to the small crowd of cyclists backed up behind me. "Are you okay?" asked one. "WAC!" said another.
Verdict: cyclists are great, peds can fuck off. Spitting on people is absolutely vile and I hope the next thing that guy steps out in front of is bigger than me.
Riding home this evening through Camberwell (home of the mentals, FACT), I spotted up ahead one of those pavement drifters. You know the sort, wandering about all over the pavement like they're in a slow motion pinball machine. I was slowing down for lights and the guy just stepped out - backwards - into the road. I did the only two things I could: brake really fucking hard and give him a Cav-style shoulder barge, so hard he ended up back on the pavement. He turned, slowly, towards me and gave me a look that was made up of seven shades of mental. Then he spat on me and walked off.
I turned to the small crowd of cyclists backed up behind me. "Are you okay?" asked one. "WAC!" said another.
Verdict: cyclists are great, peds can fuck off. Spitting on people is absolutely vile and I hope the next thing that guy steps out in front of is bigger than me.