Wednesday, 20 June 2012
I don't think it is paranoia.
If it's not the entire city of London, and then the RAF it's careless drivers.
On my way home tonight, I was cruising in the dark down a isolated a country lane on my bike when six people in silly shiny suits jumped out and tried to stop me. I ignored them. My street cred isn't that high anyway but to report that I'd been mugged by a group wearing Spandex would have left in in tatters.
Perhaps I should had waited, for there, around a blind bend was a fallen tree. Clearly I missed it because I'm writing this, but it was close.
Nearly home by then I was on a wide fast road, still driving sedately as usual - yeah, right. I let a faster bike overtake me because I've got something that looks like a Harley and is about as wide as a truck.
Five minutes later I had to stop, to see five cars scattered all over the road, and in the middle, upside down on a wide puddle of spilt diesel, the motorbike and the rider who was, thankfully, still alive.
Of all the things to injure motorcyclists in England,the single largest cause of accidents is spilt diesel. Petrol is bad enough but diesel is the worst. You'd think that with the criminally high price we're paying for fuel in this country, people would seal their tanks.
I'm really beginning to believe it. They're all out to get me.