I've always found it quite interesting to try and guess what other members of the club do for a living, and I'm generally quite surprised by the answer. Take Peter B (the other Peter B - of course - I know what I do for a living) for instance; for some reason which makes no sense at all I had always thought he had something to do with fish - either filleting or mongering (not that he smells of fish or anything like that - it was purely a hunch). So as you can imagine I was totally amazed when he told me what his profession was - although it does go a long way to explaining the odd conversation I had with him on Wednesday evening.
Peter: "Hello Peter, how am I?"
Me: "You look fine, how are you?"
Peter: "We're both doing very well, thank you"
Me: "No, I said how are you?"
Peter: "Yes, I know, and I said were both fine, and Mother thanks you for asking"
Me: (thought bubble "Oh, Sh*t")
He then pointed at the assembled bikes and said: "Why do they only have two wheels?"
I replied: "Because they're bicycles and they always have two wheels."
He then started to look a bit vague. "See I told you, Mother, they're not trolleys they're bicycles".
Me: "See you at the roundabout then?"
Peter: "Yes, hope so, and Mother says it was lovely to have met you"
(Sorry Peter, but I did warn you about going faster than me on Wednesday!)
I made my excuses and wandered over to greet Matt who was making his first appearance in two years. He explained that having left Red Bull, he was now working in the aeronautical business. He didn't say exactly what it was he was doing, but I do suspect he may be cabin crew. I know this is a bit unkind, but I became suspicious after I saw him heading towards Bexhill station pulling a small trolley, and stopping momentarily, to re-fix the stripes that had fallen off his 'Officers' uniform. I must say he was fairly 'flying', especially on the return leg, so the two years away from the Chain Gang hasn't done him any harm.
I feel I must congratulate Neil who has finally achieved his ambition of riding with the 'Supers'. When Chris gave the word for the fast guys to go off first, it was without hesitation that Neil joined them. The smile on his face was heartwarming I must say. I guess I will now have to formulate a list of 'glowing' adjectives like: 'The stupendous...The marvelous...The magnificent..' This is how Neil generally likes to describe his fellow 'Supers' in his wonderful blogs and would surely appreciate the same treatment!
Part Quatre
"We will fight them on the beaches, we will fight them in our sheds...."
(Makes more sense if you have been following this nonsense for the past three weeks.)
Having considered all the options, I was now fully prepared: "So go on then, what is my problem - pray tell me?" (this was accompanied with a smug, 'bring in on, darling, look'.)
Vicki: "Your obsessed with cycling!"
I am so 'NOT obsessed' that I have hadn't even considered the remote possibility that this could be 'my problem'. I needed to prepare a robust riposte. I didn't want to be confrontational, but, equally I didn't want to appear to be anything other than 'my own man'. After much deliberation I came up with a perfect reply.
"No, I'm not", I had delivered the 'killer' response - absolutely brilliant!. I know it's not exactly Churchillian, but I had to let Vicki know that this was a preposterous accusation up with which I shall not put. I continued in my school boyish swagger: "So on what grounds are you basing this accusation on, pray tell me some more, Oh,High Priestess of soft furnishings?." "On the grounds, sweetheart, that you cycle to work every day and still come home the long way round just to get a few more miles 'under your belt' (Mmmm, How could she know this?; I haven't seen her on Coast Road lately, so she's either 'sneaking a peek' at my Strava stats, she's manually working out my average speed or she's hired a private eye!. Come to think of it I did have a strong sense of being followed by another cyclist, one day last week. I tried slowing down but he refused to go past - even when we were both going so slowly that we started wobbling like spinning tops on their final revolutions before toppling over. I tried speeding up and down in spurts, but he stuck so close behind me that I could even smell his garlicky breath wafting past on the tail wind - probably French I'll wager. My suspicions were confirmed when with a brilliant piece of bikemanship I had lead him into that really nasty sink hole by the camp site; "Oooo, merde!" I heard him cry - go poke your baguette into someone else's affairs, mon ami! - I thought to myself. I soloed back to PRNB (the people republic of Normans bay), and,with my spirits lifted, accompanied myself with some singing whilst negotiating the omnipresent speed bumps: "... with me breeches full of Tadpoles...hop, hop...And the Newts between me toes..I am a cider drinker..hop..it soothes all me troubles away..hop,hop,hop...Oooh, arrrh, Oooh, arrrh..hop...Ooooh, arrrh,Oooh,arrh..hop,hop,hop.. ), you cycle every Wednesday evening and Saturday - without fail, you spend all your spare time, when you're not cycling, either inputting things into that Strava 'thing', or ordering more useless items- that you don't need- from Ebay. On top of that you read cycling magazines in bed, bring cycling up at every opportunity and 'bore' me, and everyone else within a five mile radius, stupid. It was frankly, quite embarrassing, when on Saturday night you over heard a snippet of our friends intimate conversation:"....marriage can be a 'rocky road' and you assumed they were taking about 'Paris-Roubaix'. And furthermore: I can't get my car in the garage - even though it's a double garage - because it's filled up with your bikes and associated cr@p!".
I must admit I was quite shaken by all this. I assumed I had a hobby, not a problem, but it has made me think seriously about cycling in an holistic and honest way. I couldn't ignore what was happening; as the great man said: "The truth is incontrovertible. Malice may attack it, ignorance may deride it, but in the end there it is". So therefore I have come to a painful decision: I am going to sell my bikes and all associated paraphernalia, I will drive to work and I will cease to buy useless cr@p on Ebay. I will devote more time to my partner, housework and earning money and will do my utmost to finally grow up. Vicki did acknowledge that I should have a hobby and so I suggested that I might like to get involved in 'battle re-enactment', but only once or twice a year. I explained to her that I had seen a full suit of armour for sale on ebay for £6,000, and then added 'It'll look smashing in our hall". I also suggested that she may like to join me as my 'fair lady': Unsurprisingly she has urged me not to do anything too hasty. Now pass me that copy of cycling weekly I think I might treat myself to that 'Giant Wicked II'.
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| Good To Have Both Nick And JV Down The Pub Post Ride! |
Le fin.
Peter Buss
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