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Our latest wanker was not a motorist. A rarity so far in this blog, but not in real life. Cycling down a quiet road in Beckton, I clocked a group of four teenage boys. They clocked me too. I don’t pretend to understand the mind of a teenage boy, never having been one, but it seems that whenever a group of boys spot a female cyclist, like Pavlov’s dog they have no choice but to wordlessly nominate a spokesman to hurl some ill-thought out half-baked attempt at an insult. To fail at this, would be to fail at being a teenage boy in a group. I imagine many teenage boys begrudge this universal obligation as much as adults despise depositing cheques at banks on Saturday mornings. This time, however, they couldn’t even manage words. The tallest scalliwag ran towards me roaring, with his arms gyrating like a windmill. I like to think of this as a reverse Don Quixote scene, with me on my rusty 28 year old pink bike.

Wanker #4 was encountered yesterday evening when my chain helpfully fell off just outside the Amersham Arms (lovely pub, you should go there). After hearing the familiar crunch, I hopped onto the pavement, and flipped my bike over to fix it. 12 male cyclists stopped to ask if I needed help in about 6 minutes. One male motorist, however, shouted “Ha ha! You fucking cyclist twat!” What a gent.

Wanker #5 had a convertible. Not a huge surprise. He leaned over when driving to shout “Watch me overtake you” which i did, while he drove off laughing. Five minutes later, as he sat in traffic leading up to Kennington Park, I smiled at him and said “Watch me overtake you”. Brilliant.

This morning’s first wanker was in New Cross. He saw me cycling down New Cross Road, as he was waiting to turn onto the same road. Rather than wait until the road was clear, he nudged the front of his car into the road, far enough to stop me, but not far enough to trouble the motorists alongside me. As I was forced to stop next to his window, he turned and shouted “Know your place, woman” before driving off.

Our second wanker caught me on Greenwich High Road as we waited at some temporary lights. After shouting “Oi!” repeatedly, I turned to see him pretending to masturbate. We were next to Greenwich Pumping Station, which is probably a coincidence since he didn’t seem bright enough to have come up with a contextual sex-based comment.

Our first wanker was angry that a bicycle was on the road. He hit his horn whilst behind me, whilst I was waiting in the cycle box at the traffic lights. As he turned at the junction alongside me, he continued to use his horn. At the next traffic lights, he rolled his window down to shout “You stupid fucking slut, get off the road and onto the pavement, you stupid bitch”. He was in his company vehicle, so rather than rise to his bait, I took my iPhone out and openly took a photo of his registration plate. For some reason this shut him up.

The company in question is Cannon Hygiene. I’ve written to them to tell them about their driver, and will update if they get back to me.