Little White Lies

It occurred to me that not being able to ride a bike came with wider ramifications.

Not only was there a host of failed attempts, bruised knees and a battered ego but a few little white lies. The fact remains that even though I can't ride a bike at the age of 20, most people don't know that. Hence their responses.

This will obviously change when I tell my colleagues, friends and all the randomers in my Facebook friends list about this blog.

In years gone by, around the age of fifteen I met up with some friends after school, who decided we should go to the park on our bikes. I retorted that I didn't have my bike with me, whilst feeling subtly proud about maintaining my secret. Never-the-less, my friend had a solution.

A scooter.



I guess it could have been worse, he could have had another bike in his garage...

Still you need to bear in mind, my balance was not that of an agile tight-rope walker and more of a dizzy, one legged tramp who had recently drank a bottle of paint stripper.

Oblivious to this, the other two shot off up the hill on their bikes, to the park where I had previous problems. My portly little legs lacked the strength to heave my frame up the hill and soon I was carrying the low price, rusty scooter.

I did catch up with my friends, at the park about 20 minutes later...
With more venom towards bicycles and their riders than ever.