Acts of Cycling Stupidity

I had cause recently to buy a pair of trousers, in a moderately swanky London shop. I got chatting with the assistant. I mentioned that I was a cycling writer. “I always know when any of my regular customers take up cycling,” he said.

“Oh, yes?” I replied. “Is that because they lose weight, put on muscle? You know, change to a more athletic shape, something like that?”

“Not at all. It’s because the instant they come through the door they start going on about bloody cycling and won’t stop,” he said.