So this morning a Parceline van forced me off the road in Kennington, so that he could turn down towards Sandford-on-Thames for a no doubt urgent delivery. So urgent was the consignment that he was selflessly willing to risk life and limb for it: it just happened to be my life and limb. I got all the way to the office with his registration number in my head and then it evaporated. Something-something-03 AKJ? There’s no way to complain on the site anyway.
To add to this K. has been squeezed out twice by the X4 bus recently, and two weeks ago a flatbed Adhectic truck objected to my not using the non-obligatory cycle path (ungritted, pedestrianized and full of litter). Unaware of any pertinent Highway code rules, he overtook me with two inches between his thundering truck and my bike, sounding his horn as if his sclerotic, blond-pigtailed, fat-bastarded heart had just packed in, pitching him over his wheel. If only.