What is with the White Van Man?

Now usually I’m a fan of the white van man (WVM). When everyone else gives them stick, I stand up and defend them. Why? Well When I had my not so high powered job in the city (of London) I used to cycle to work. The white van man was my friend they would always be looking out for you in their mirrors, giving you right of way, they would give you enough space as they drove pass you – generally really commendable road users. Now you could say that white van men in the city drive everyday and have by osmosis, learnt to accommodate all road users. This might be a valid point. However the same doesn’t ring true with black cabbies. In my cycling days they were truly evil! One time I was ride down Princes street and towards the end of the road I was trying to get in front of this cabbie because I was turning left and I didn’t want him to crush me! As I was trying to get passed his cab I gently tapped his windscreen with my handle bar. I immediately put my face through the window and apologized. The cabbie proceeded to try and run me off the road! There I was peddling for my life and this cabbie is speeding towards me hot on my trail he then scrapes past my F’ing and blinding then cuts right in front of me so I have to break – hard. There are other distressing cabbie experiences which I’m just too fragile to recollect right nowJ

Anyway I digressed slightly, now another reason the WVM may be so amiable is that they are already at work. When you are on your bike racing against the clock to get to you desk before 9.30 (believe me 9.30 starts were sooooooooooo hard!) they are already at work and probably have been for hours. Arguably there is no really hurry. They know there roads are going to be trafficy despite the laughable congestion charge (that’s a whole different blog!) So they don’t get stressed I wonder how true this theory is.

Some people think that the reason the WVM was so virtuous was because I was a woman. As we all know the WVM is a red blooded male who pants and drool at the sight of a bit of skirt! (I’m stereotyping here!) Anyway, in my case this could never be true as believe me, in my tracky bottoms and unattractive baggy illuminous vest, I was hardly the picture of beauty! I remember when I had a car and on the few occasions where I had a flat tyre and no clue about how to change the tyre and no clue that the spare I had was also flat ( yes I know I was young!) I had a queue of men lining up to help me. I didn’t need to pat an eyelid or flash any flesh they just came to my rescue in drones I never had to pay for breakdown cover! I guess I was lucky. Thinking that that good luck would automatically carry over to my cyclist persona I was so wrong! I had a puncture once and didn’t know how to fix it! I mean why would I learn when I never needed to know when I was driving! Anyway, no on stopped for me, no one asked me if I was ok. I was heartbroken! I swore it was because I looked like a sweaty vagrant in my makeshift cycling gear. So, defeated, I had to wheel my bike to the nearest Evans who sorted it for me. (Bless those guys) Anyway I would I guess I’ll never know what made them they way they were. All I know is that they have changed!

Yesterday I was on my moped – Yes I have promoted myself to 2 wheels with a 125cc engine! I was at a set of traffic lights and this WVM pulled up next to me. Now you can hardly miss my shiny black and faux- chromed 2008 Aprillia Habana! It’s a stunning retro looking bike and anyone on it looks instantly cool! The lights changed and we both got from 0-30mph in about the same time. Now I have a feeling this guy is going to want my lane. I knew this because over the years I have developed a telepathic sense which I rely on the roads. Unfortunately my telepathy hasn’t yet extended to lottery numbers or anything like that but I’m working on it! So anyway, this guy just cuts in front of me. No indication nothing! So as we pull up to the next set of lights a pull up next to him and shake my head. He then turns to me and says ‘You don’t wanna live long do you love? I reply ‘ what you talking about?’ He then says you were in my blind spot, I couldn’t see you’. I ride a motorbike and I know all about blindspots’. So I ‘ retorted ‘clearly you don’t know how to drive a car because you don’t know where the indicators are’! He just laughed. I felt vindicated taking his laugh as admission for his mistake, but quite sad as he had tainted the unblemished record of the WVM.