Here it is folks, the lowdown on the rundown cc scene,
thru the cataracts of yer jovial jerk, Scoop!
Moving Target, , 1991
City
Wages: Ranges from a oner to 500 nicker depending on which pathalogical liar you encounter.
Appearance: Matted hair, grimy complexion. Usually wear black with DMs or trainers, or cycling gear that's seen one too many crashes. -Slipstreaming one of these boys is like bathing in patchouli oil. Company bags carry new age words of wisdom: 'Fuck the Poll road tax', ‘All cabbies are tossers', 'Crass' and 'Jim 4 Julie trew luv.' etc.
Bikes: Mountain bikes, squeaky, crunchy, mountain bikes, wrapped in inner tube, with back wheels doing the Lambada, save for a few social misfits who frequent the 'Hole'.
Attitude: ranges from dreary to deranged, on a good day.
Habitat: In the ‘Hole' @ Moorfields or just lurking in some shop doorway scaring passers by and small children.
Distance: EC2 to EC2, EC3 at a push, EC4 and WCs or W1s induce heart attacks, temper tantrums and general feelings of Nausea common amongst people who are in shock.
West End
Wages: Ditto
Appearance: Oakley blades, shaved legs (a must lovey!), Descente or Assos clothes and not forgetting the Timbuk2 bag and accessories, ie: dinky timbuk2 radio holders, condom holders, Oakley holders, pomp holders, purses for foundation, immac, mirror and separate compartment for those caffeine suppositories.
Bikes: This is domain of the Campag slags. The mere mention of C Record Century groupset is enough to dampen the chamois of even the most po-faced Sohophile - the square where they parade their Cannondales and Colnagos in between bouts of bitching. The West End poser is to be seen poodling along on an understated British handbuilt, fixed wheel. Failing that a custom made MTB kitted out in Campag Euclid and Mavic. Closer examination of the gear set-up on some of these may show a liking for a 24-28 which is strange 'cos London ain't that hilly! Mind you, Broadwick St to Soho Squ. can be a bugger with a headwind.
Attitude: Some of these characters need some serious one-on-one with a shrink (weird as a bottte of chips nowaddameen?). Real steet snobs. "Yo boys, smile sometimes and give your face a joyride
Habitat: Soho coffee shops such as the one opposite Nat. Mag. House in Broadwick street. This gives mere mortals the chance to gawp as the sun glistens off their iridium lenses and the baby oil on their legs.
Distance: Much the same as the city except in reverse. 'Heroic voyages into the city’ stories are rolled out in 'Il Panino’ of an evening to the gasps of their fellow sycophants.
Do you recognise any of these characters? If you don't you now know what to look out for and avoid. Contact with any of the above ca seriously warp a troubled mind. If you know of, or are one of the aformentioned then I hope your therapist gets better soon.
- Scoop Smiley (The luv dove).
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