At that moment…

This is a short anecdote about something that made my day special.  The day in question – some weeks ago now – became special because of something hilarious (at least, I thought so.)

What happened was this: I was driving around (as part of an ordinary business day) when I had to stop at traffic signals (a common enough occurrence.) I happened to be the first stopped car, that is, I was right at the stop line.

Now, this set of signals served two purposes: it controlled a crossing point for pedestrians and cyclists (several were waiting) and it was also part of a complex system of traffic control for a large roundabout linking trunk roads.  The entire layout was not visible from where I was stopped.  (Note that.)

After a few seconds, the signals allowed the pedestrians and cyclists to cross.  Among them, a very average cyclist on an equally average bike began, slowly, to cross in front of me…

Well, as I said, the entire layout was out of my range of vision; but out of earshot it was not.  Oh, no.  And at exactly the same moment, unseen, a powerful motor-bike roared away.

Picture, if you can, the absurd overall impression – a pedal cycle moving off at a sedate pace, making an ear-splitting roar!  It made me scream with laughter.  And the humour of the situation stayed with me all day.

Watch out (or listen out) for excessively noisy push-bikes…

This post was prompted by the writing workshop at:

http://www.sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/2011/07/04/writing-workshop-prompts-what-today-meant/

Then look here:

http://www.sleepisfortheweak.org.uk/2011/07/11/writing-workshop-what-today-has-meant-by-a-special-guest-contributor/

I linked this post to #chucklemums week 7 on 7 June 2016

Mumzilla
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6 thoughts on “At that moment…”

  1. One Saturday, many years ago, my wife and I were returning to Edinburgh in a car whose exhaust had just gone. We, too, were the first car at a set of lights. The motorcyclist next to us was revving his engine, demonstrating the sheer power of the beast he was driving. We revved ours, the shot exhaust did it’s magic, the biker looked round, raised his visor. “You win” he said. Brilliant.

    Even better was taking it through the quiet Sunday morning streets to get it fixed.

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