Riding home last night on my newly serviced blade, I hoisted the front wheel coming off a roundabout. What I failed to notice until too late, was the bike plod sat in traffic in the opposite lane waiting to enter the roundabout. Fuck! He watched me pass, and I watched my mirrors. Sure enough, I saw indications that he was going to give chase, obviously with a view to congratulating me on my spiffing monowheeled frivolity. So, I decide to get out of sight round the next bend, and then tonk it through the traffic till the next sidestreet where I'll get off the main road. As it happens, this side street simply loops back alongside the main road and rejoins it just before the bend metioned above. I knew this, but more importantly, I knew that the only other exit from this road (and the route I initially intended to take), was a footbridge over the railway which leads onto my estate. Just as I'm approaching the left turn off the main road, my saviour appears to me, wearing similar clothing and riding the same coloured (although different make & model) bike as me. As I turned off, he pulled out into the main road, taking my place. Halfway round the loop road, it dawned on me what was possibly going to happen, and I couldn't resist the temptation to witness it. At the end of the loop, I pulled back onto the main road, and pootled along in a very mature and sensible manner. Sure enough, parked on the left a few hundred yards past my escape route were the cop bike and a black SV. The riders were having a chat, with my stunt double looking somewhat confused by the whole scenario. I passed by gingerly, and laughed all the way home. This morning I'm feeling somewhat guilty about the whole episode, and I'd like to say "Sorry mister" to the poor SV rider. But I'm not gonna. I like bikers more than car drivers, but when the adrenaline's pumping, and it's my licence or yours, you're just another cunt I've never met.
