Diary: The Tales of a London City Cyclist – there’s a twat in my sights

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Description: UltraBoy. 5’9, mid to late thirties, dark hair, grey eyes, size 31 waist, weight 72kg with waterproof bag, Mac laptop and a 13kg BFold 7 folding bike.

Description: Twatty McDangle. 6’2, shaven haired, bit smelly, noticeably well shined shoes, at least a size 44 inch waist, beer gut, double chin (maybe multiple), shifty with shoulder bag.

TMc: that your bike?
UB: yes it is
TMc: going to continue to fucking take up all that space?

Let me explain the state of the train – half empty, lots of seats remained and there was nobody else by the doors.

I usually park my folded bike by the doors on the opposite side to the platform therefore not causing a problem for my fellow commuters getting on and off the train. I tuck the bike as tightly to the door as possible, usually making it as compact as possible. I then stand opposite so that if it comes loose or is in someone’s way I can move it and minimise the offence. Moreover I tuck myself in as tightly as possible with my bag wedged between my legs.

Twatty glared at me as I put my phone away. On the off chance this was going to end in a punch up I didn’t want my phone smashed.

UB: perhaps you’d like to stand here fella?
TMc: Yeah

I took position by my bike and gave the space to the stupid fucker but so angered by him I then positioned myself in what would be clearly considered his personal space and glared directly at him and continued to get ever closer. He was a big bloke and had my passive aggressive behaviour aggravated him enough and fisticuffs ensued I might have had a difficult time but I figure the enclosed space might make for a bit of a leveller but he did nothing other than stare at his feet and despite being significantly taller than me I loomed over him menacingly. He slinked off at London Bridge never once meeting my gaze, I got the feeling he was a coward who didn’t know how to respond to the fact I’d been polite to him or the fact that I was clearly pissed off enough to see if I could get under his skin.

The bit that irked was that he had been rude, that there had been tonnes of space just inches away on the train and I wonder if tomorrow I might have to tell him to go fuck himself – should I see him.

According to South Eastern Railways I’m allowed to transport my folded bike with me – hell, the mayor wants me to cycle, my heart wants me to cycle, but this man took offence to the fact that I commute on his train with my bike. However, if you happen to see me on a train with my bike and this offends you please don’t hesitate to let me know, I really enjoy it, can’t you tell?

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5 comments
  1. Nancy Rooks said:

    Good on you!

    • ultraboycreates said:

      Well we’ll see if it happens again today

  2. Mary said:

    Love that he felt comfortable enough around you to swear on your first meeting! (What an idiot!)

  3. One of the many joys of being a cyclist. I get enough aggro & I don’t even use a train so I feel for you!! If all else fails, take the moral high ground..”I’m fit, healthy & last saw my own knob this morning. When did you last see yours you fat (add your own expletive)” Admittedly, it’s normally said in my head but it makes me feel better!!

    Great post

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