To the battlements, freedom fighters. Your new cause is here, your sense of purpose renewed. The Man is trying to prevent sexual relations between adults and consenting bicycles. Let us rouse ourselves and ride into battle. Wipe the seat first.
The facts: on Nov. 14 in the small Scottish town of Ayr, Robert Stewart, 51, pled guilty to a charge of sexually aggravated breach of the peace. Stewart, who had been staying in Ayr's Aberley House Hostel, was caught by cleaning staff in the act of having, or at least simulating, a sex act with his bicycle.
Prosecutor Gail Davidson told Ayr Sheriff Court: "They knocked on the door several times and there was no reply. They used a master key to unlock the door and they then observed the accused wearing only a white t-shirt, naked from the waist down. The accused was holding the bike and moving his hips back and forth as if to simulate sex."
The scandalized staffers informed management. Police were summoned. After pleading guilty, Stewart was placed on the Sex Offenders Register for three years. Local bicycles are once more free to wait at the curb, safe in the knowledge that should they be stolen it will only be for the purposes of transportation. As a registered sex offender, Stewart will probably be forced to travel on no less than four wheels, and to stay well clear of the Tour de France.
You into three wheelers?
I know what you're thinking. Yes, I do. You're thinking, "This case is British. I needn't worry about the potential infringement of my freedoms that it so clearly represents."
Nonsense. Same Commonwealth, my complacent friends. How long will it be before this draconian precedent crosses the pond? There may well be dark times ahead for Canadian bi-sexuals.
And bike-sexuals too. You can see the confusion. If sex with bikes is wrong, the resulting laws could cast a very wide net indeed. Identifying oneself as "bi" will be enough. And God help those who express interest in a ménage a trios -- vice cops will surely assume there's a helpless tricycle involved. A tricycle, for God's sake. They'll hit you hard, sicko.
These issues, while crucially important, can only be faced once you stop distracting yourself with questions about how a man can have sex with a bike. It's simple. It has to be. I am not sure how it is simple. But it must be easy. In fact once you figure it out, it's probably like riding a bike. A lot like. The seat must be involved -- maybe Stewart's model had the banana type? Or maybe a hollow piece of frame. You'd like me to stop speculating now, perhaps? Fine. Let's return to the bigger issues.
Put up your mitts
Particularly disturbing was the fact that Mr. Stewart was behind a locked door in his own rented accommodation when the offence occurred. This sort of intrusion is frightening indeed. Soon no mature adult will be free to engage in sexual congress with a favourite kitchen appliance. Say goodbye to your laundry day trysts leaning against that warm, vibrating dryer. Write a Dear John letter to your favourite oven mitt. It's over.
Interestingly, Stewart told authorities the bike-boinking incident was the result of too much drink and a "misunderstanding." What sort of misunderstanding would that be? Testimony from the bicycle would certainly clear up the issue of consent.
Mistaken identity is another possibility. Many a traveler has been falsely seduced, like Odysseus with the Sirens. A squeeze of the horn producing a seductive, eager little honk -- it is love's sweet song.
People used to say, "Sure, and if my Grandma had wheels, she'd be a streetcar." Or if my best girl had wheels she could be rather cute, n'est-ce pas? Who is to judge, especially where martinis are involved? Mr. Stewart's bicycle may well have led him on, that round-heeled little temptress. Pretty fast, I hear.
Is it wrong to love your bicycle? Naturally not. Mounting one's bike should not be illegal. It is necessary. We need more bikes on the road. This may be the way to make them.
But I hope the spokes weren't involved. Because that would just be sick.
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