Mid-life crisis: Trying not to turn into an a**hole cyclist
It's a bit like that episode in Father Ted, where the woman says to him, "I hear you're a racist now, father". People are saying to me, "I hear you're a hipster now."
Obviously, I'm not. If I was going to be a hipster I would have been one, years ago, before anyone else was a hipster. I wouldn't be coming to it this late. And at my age, it's not a good look, anyway. When guys like me start becoming hipsters, it's time to get out of it - sell your jam jars, your donut shop, your bar/grocery, and shave off your beard. Cash in and find the next thing.
So let me be clear on this. The bike has a box on the front because it's handy. You can chuck stuff into it. And the bike is Dutch because they make the best city bikes. And the bike is heavy because I'm a big lad and I don't want to get into bike maintenance and puncture fixing, so I just bought the sturdiest one I could find. And I can't help it if it looks cool, can I? It's a snazzy bike. And look, I'm the first person to make a joke about my delivery round for the butcher/baker/candlestick maker. And in fairness, if pushed, with this bike, I could get a job with An Post.