Last Updated on February 18, 2023
This morning on my way to work I was in a particularly ebullient mood and full of the joys of the slightly broken promise of spring; despite the drizzle and headwinds I was enjoying pushing the pedals and passing the miles.
Ahead of me on a broad cycle path by a river I spotted a motorbility scooter up ahead. I’ve seen this particular wee cart about a lot over the last few months of cycle exploring, and I recognized it immediately because it is always covered with an all-weather indivisibility cloak regardless of weather.
This particular scooter looks so much like a small vinyl greenhouse that I have previously pondered whether one such greenhouse had become sentient and started wandering the town in search of lost seedlings.
The cart was about as far left as was possible on the cycle path and perambulating with gently noble progress.
As when passing all other man and beast on cycle paths I slowed to an almost complete stop and (as I always do) I chirped, “Excuse me, please may I pass on your right?” And after a pause I rolled past, and that’s when the following dialog was bourne:
Voice from within the travelling propagation unit – “HOY!”
Myself, upon stopping to make sure all was well – “Hullo?”
Voice from behind the mist obscured depths – “Manners cost nothing!”
Myself, with genial lilt and cheery smile – “Oh; I did ask if I could come past you…”
Troubled traveler – “I would have moved out of the way if you had of asked.”
Myself, with soft disappointment in my delivery – “I did say please?”
Aggrieved entity made a noise like a rusty can opener being operated inside a tub of Vaseline.
Myself, preparing to depart – “Oh no… don’t be like that. I think it’s sad that you misheard me.”
By this time the mobile electric greenhouse had pushed past me so I crossed a little void of verge and made my way to work on the footpath that runs beside the cycle path.
The moral of this tale? I’m chuffed if I can figure it out…