Cycling Weekly - - FLAMME ROUGE -

An in­for­mant came to me with a story of young love. Two star cy­clo-crossed lovers took their first ten­ta­tive steps by go­ing to bike races to­gether. On the sec­ond of these oc­ca­sions, his car­bon bike flew off her roof rack at high speed and was de­stroyed by a fol­low­ing lorry. It was clearly her fault, since she’d left a crit­i­cal clamp in the boot. “Never mind,” he said. “It doesn’t mat­ter.”

When he told my in­for­mant of this, my in­for­mant said, “I take it you only said that be­cause you didn’t want to have a row and ruin the re­la­tion­ship by de­mand­ing that she pay for it?” “Yes.”

“So you’re ba­si­cally pay­ing for sex?” “I sup­pose so, yes.”

Puts a new light on the phrase ‘pimp my ride’.

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