The Drunken Bicycle

 I used a new manoeuvre today au velo - the drunken bicycle manoeuvre - to remind certain car-drivers that they're not on a drag strip anymore. The incident occurred on Hazelwood Road in the upmarket part (Ranfurly) of Bridge of Weir where two cars, in separate incidents, were haring it up the hill at what appeared to be (to my ear at least) an excessive speed. I was on foot with Pegasus at my side and so upon hearing the revving engine behind me I slowly started to weave out into the middle of this quiet and empty residential road. Naturally, the car slowed down as it saw me and was forced to come to a stop as I deliberately dawdled. No horns were sounded or shouts hurled in both situations, just a quiet recognition that, yes, this road does not belong to cars first but to people and children and bicycles (if not the odd scurrying fox, hedgehog, or low-flying blackbird). You can almost hear this acceptance in the quietening down of the car engine - the driver's realization that they've been caught red-handed - and the appreciation (in the lack of insults hurled) that the catcher has done this in such a way as to allow the car-driver to save face, (at no point do I confront the car or driver but as is apt for the drunk to do appear completely oblivious to them),  thus, perhaps, next time, allowing them to be reminded by this saved face not to do it again.

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