So maybe I shouldn’t start out my blog with bitterness – but we’ll dress it up as karma as that’s okay…
My (recent) ex boyfriend informed me today that he fell off his pushbike pissed. Lump on head – Cuts, bruises and scrapes to knees, elbows and fractured ribs. Awwww, bless. I was howling at the thought – and not just because I’m an evil witch who wishes him harm (The little shit did call me one night to let me know he was about to sleep with another woman…) but because it must be hilarious to see someone fall off their bike drunk. I did this myself once many years ago when I used to ride a bike to work – but I worked next to The George and Dragon pub and I was only 18, my first real job and I spent most of my wages in there – good times. Sometimes I would leave my bike chained up and (sensibly) get a taxi home. One night , however, I must have thought I was still in control and able to ride my bike home, only to pull up at some traffic lights to realise I was really not in control and for that moment when I was supposed to cross I just completely forgot how to ride a bike. In my attempt at riding across I fell off in front of the cars waiting at the lights and quite a few pedestrians also got a right good laugh. I had to pick the bike up and wheel it across in shame and most of the way home. I think I wanted to cry at the time but how I’d love to see a video clip of that moment, to be the guy sat in his car at the lights who got to witness that. Priceless, he must have pissed his pants all the way home.
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