. . . goes to the "I'm-cycling's-gift-to-women", or whatever he thought he was, in all-the-gear-but-no-idea as he made his way through two lanes of traffic Saturday afternoon on Brighton seafront. We (my friend and his dog) were crossing at the most convenient point for us while the lights were red 30 yards further down the road . . . as you do. No probs.
Apparently it was for God's-gift-to-cycling who, when we were on the pavement yelled "What's wrong with the proper bloody crossing!!?"
I'll point out, in no way were we impeding or in any way close to him, only aware of him as he sailed past, but he obviously decided to put us in our place. Naturally we shouted back at him and, whaddya know it, he breezed through the red light. We shouted "RED LIGHT!!!"
Knob jockey.