What a strange thing has just happened!
I was riding my trusty Brompton along Pall Mall nonchalantly minding my own business. As I cycled past a number of builders standing on scaffolding, the most peculiar thing occurred. I heard a wolf whistle. Being a curious sort of chap, I naturally gazed around to see whom was the object of their sexist taunt. To my surprise I could not see anyone else. In addition, being so early in the morning there was no one else around. No pedestrians. No cars, lorries or buses ebbing and flowing. Nothing?
It then crossed my mind that, I might indeed be the object that caught their attention. Yes, I know that I am a happily married, 40 year old male but given the right lighting I can still turn a head or two. Yes it must have been the black North Face jacket combined with a fluorescent orange wastecoat. The finishing touch of a pair of Altura over trousers (with Night vision stripes) must have set their pulses on edge as I ambled up Pall Mall.
How did I feel? Well quite flattered really for all of a few seconds. Of course after an up there is sometimes a down and I thought about things. I felt quite cheap. I mean, I have feelings too! These feelings were compounded as it soon dawned on me that it was not me that induced a wolf whistle from a load of builders (for want of not knowing the collective noun) but my bright orange (with black extremities) Brompton Folding Bike!
You will be pleased to know that I rode on with dignity, despite hearing continued and sustained wolf whistles as I turned into St Jame's Square.
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