Knobs

Knobs. They're everywhere.

Knob one. Riding home alongside the City West Link tonight. A police car is tearing up the road behind us with lights and sirens on. Most cars in the fast lane change lanes, but several knobs drive along in blissful ignorance for some distance with a blaring, blazing, honking police car behind them. What hope do we cyclists have of being noticed when there are some people who are so dense and uncaring that they fail to notice emergency vehicles?

Knob two. Riding up George St this morning. A taxi is crawling along in front of me, clearly hoping for business. I get sick of him and overtake. I'm going considerably faster than he was - but he pulls out, overtakes me and then goes back to kerb crawling. He couldn't handle the idea of anyone getting in front of him. So I overtook him again and then took a lane position that prevented him from repeating that stupid manoeuvre. He didn't get a fare after all that.

There was a knob number three, but I can't remember what they did. Ah well, that's enough knobs for one day.