It is one of those weeks when sitting in the garden, enjoying the sun and partaking in a few beers with mates from way back, has rather taken over from the whole, think about what I should be doing thing. Ok there has been a fair few long rides thrown into the mix, usually in search of micro breweries that happen to be beside some very nice windy roads, but that is obligatory isn’t it?
Anyway on one of these rides we were somewhat amazed to come across another motorcyclist on a R1 doing what can only be described as wobbling down the road. I slowed down thinking the guy has a problem and then realized that he did and that his problem was that he was a twat.
For those of you that don’t know, according to the Oxford Dictionary, a twat is either a person regarded as stupid or obnoxious or a woman’s genitals. It can also mean to hit or punch somebody and first appeared in use in the 17th Century and I have been using it regularly ever since!
This person is best described using a 17th century word
At first I wondered what the fuck he was doing, he had one hand inside his jacket and I thought, bee, wasp, small bird, big bird? Then, as he withdrew his hand clenching a mobile phone, I realized what sort of person we were dealing with. He wobbled along, accelerating, decelerating, veering towards the hedge and the opposite lane alternately and generally making us laugh or wince in equal measure. Yeah, we were following and watching, you can’t let a free show like that pass you by can you?
Anyway this went on for a few minutes and the idiot seemed to come to their senses and dived into a lay by, or so I thought, but maybe not. After travelling the length of it they swung out into the road again and continued on their erratic way. Maybe they had decided that they didn’t actually need to remove their crash helmet and gloves to answer the call? It certainly wasn’t because blue tooth had connected to the intercom because the “interesting” riding continued.
By now I was considering how best to overtake and pull them over without getting side swiped or crashed into. Until now it had been funny but they were in serious danger of hurting themselves and that is only funny when you’re drunk and it a friend in pain. I need not have worried because that that same law that protects drunks also protects idiot motorcyclists it seems as a corner a wide verge and a hedge leaped out into the road and collected R1 and rider in a rather elegant way. It was like the gods were using them as a catcher’s mit to protect their favorite fool.
Sort of, but not quite
We parked up, jumped off the bikes, and helped the guy pull his now scratched but otherwise intact R1 out of the hedge. Now I am not saying it was deliberate, not saying that at all, and I honestly don’t know which of the four of us could possibly have done it, we are usually so careful, but somehow in the heaving and straining and searching for purchase the offending mobile, unfortunately, got stood on. It might possibly have been one of us; it is definitely not beyond the realms of belief….. But we blamed it on him anyway ….what a pity, never mind…
The guy, because it was a guy, took his crash helmet off and started to thank us for our help, and I being the only French speaker in our group replied in the only way possible … “vous êtes une putain TWAT” … I assume he got the message.