This morning the wife & I moseyed out for a cycle and it was lovely. The best weather we’d had in a week, ‘a canteen’ were busy selling take-away coffees, people were sat 2m apart on park benches, relaxing in the sunshine, chatting away. And the cycle route from Chelmo Village to Writtle is a joy.
Only after we’d passed the Old Chelmsfordians footie/cricket pitches (with the tennis courts beyond, just off the main Roxwell Road) and gone over the little brook, you come to a sharp right-hand bend. Had I been approaching this juncture but 2 seconds later, then this complete and utter tit of a bloke would have crashed straight into me, as no way would there have been sufficient time to jam his anchors on, like he did, at the very last minute. The idiot was with a lady, who was on the inside, while he was on my side of the path doing a fair old lick around a blind bend, simply assuming that no-one and nothing would be coming in the opposite direction.
Only there was something.
The middle-aged guy didn’t particularly look like a prick/spanner. So why act like one?