He throws his leg over the saddle, composes himself, then pedals off, pulling out straight in front of me in the process. He weaves a little, I hold back to give him room. He veers into the middle of the road, wobbling. Coming the other way a pizza delivery scooter slows to make a right hand turn, stopping to wait for a gap in the traffic. The cyclist continues his path, straight into the scooter. Low speed, he can hardly pedal, and the two riders exchange words.

He wobbles onward, weaving across both lanes, causing cars to swerve. Louise calls the police.

Part of me hopes he was in an accident, but that he is only damaged, teaching him a lesson.

Part of me hopes he was OK and didn’t get hurt.

Part of me was suppressing giggles.