Middle Aged Man In Lycra – “The MAMIL”: the country’s full of them. Blokes in their forties, paunches straining against hundreds of pounds of garish lycra, sat astride bikes that would split them in two given half the chance. Some ride in packs, others alone; all of them hated. They block the streets and slow the traffic, demanding everyone follow the highway code until it suits them not to. Collective distaste means they’re ignored, and sunglasses and helmets make them anonymous.
Which, in my line of work, is a perfect combination.
It had become a litany of little selfishnesses that I just couldn’t take any more