Why wear a helmet

I should’ve been writing about something else today. But to be honest I can’t bring myself to concentrate on anything other than the fact I was hit by a hackney cab last night, who overtook me on the inside at a roundabout then tried to swerve in front of me, knocking me clean off my bike in the process. Having decided that nothing was broken, or that there wasn’t any following traffic, I picked myself and the bike up, threw my bike off the road (causing more damage than the crash itself) and ran after the cab swinging my helmet round my head and roaring incomprehensibly. I’d gone, in a word, caveman.

After he’d hit me he accelerated as if to pull away, then stopped and I caught up with him. My adrenaline was pretty much spent by now, just cold, wet and bleeding. He pathetically told me that he “…had swerved mind.” Implying that I should be grateful to him running me over after he'd hit me. Words, or at least words that I wouldn’t get the sack for, cannot suffice.

I’m very grateful for no further damage to me or my hardy Allez and especially happy, remembering how hard my head had hit the tarmac, that I was wearing a helmet. If you do read this and don’t wear a helmet, think! It doesn’t matter how aware you are on the road, there’s no accounting for the rank thoughtlessness of some road users.