Basket case

My normal route home starts with a turn out of the office car park into a one way street. There are normally cars parked on both sides, and often there are kids and assorted parents and pets, all in various states of awareness. So, I take it easy and keep a careful watch.

Today, that caution paid off for a non helmet wearing cyclist who launched herself off the pavement in front of me, and then meandered on ahead. (At least she was going in the right direction – but that’s another story.)

I waited till the road widened at the junction and it was safe to overtake. I said nothing. I did nothing. I was the epitome of restraint. (Internally, I was screaming: “You stupid bloody idiot – you nearly got yourself killed!” But we will pass over that.)

However, as I passed I was able, for the first time, to see the front of her bike. It was equipped with a fine, sturdy basket. What was on top of the basket? A helmet – presumably hers. Now I really wanted to shout at her, but I didn’t. I continued my drive home and wondered at the madness of it all.