The ex and I went around Angel a few weeks ago, during a sunny spell on a couple of Boris bikes, the ex occasionally yelling at me for casually violating the laws of the road while I stopped to take photos.
I haven’t really got the hang of turning my bike yet (I need to stop, get off and walk the bike around) but by the end of the ride I finally managed it without worrying that I would ram into a parked car.
Well, not worrying too much. The thought still occurred to me when my turn veered a little wide. I don’t think I’ll ever learn to drive.
In any case, I mentioned boobs being everywhere (even in this wishy-ashy summer) – While cycling behind the ex, a heavily made-up girl with a very short, peach coloured, frock and black platform heels minced by on the pavement.
I say frock, not dress, because it was barely a dress; A flared, stiff skirt reaching just below the crotch with a high round-necked collar and a tight black band tucking it all in the waist.
It was, to say the least, not a flattering look (especially the high collar) and she looked very over-dressed (ironic considering the length. Aren’t I such an aunty?) for a Saturday afternoon.
One of the things it did do was draw attention to her inordinately large bosom.
Unfortunately the shape of the dress and the high collar turned it into a huge uni-boob. (Unflattering dresses or badly fitting bras sometimes do this to big boobs. They get morphed into a single sausage-shaped boob. Like a bolster that has been strapped to a woman’s chest.)
I happened to see the ex’s head rotate 180 degrees to ogle at that girl while trying to navigate the bike down the road.
It was hilarious. I wish I had a photo of that.