Nathaniel Porter said:Just out of interest - what were the circumstances?
Drink cycling was a separate and hilarious case. I'll deal with that later.
Cycling home from work at 10.30 (I was then the manager of an off license). I had a faulty rear
light. Tap it and it worked, tap it again and it went out - that kind of thing. Came to a set of
lights, all roads clear in all directions, car behind me. Went over the lights. Car behind was a
policeman. Started flashing his lights, I pulled into my service road, and to my house ignoring the
police. They nabbed me just as I was about to close the door. They let me put my bike away then
spoke to me in their car - I said nothing other than give my name, and pointed to where I live. I
live at number 81A, they wrote down 81. I never got any summons. I was convicted in my absence, I
had the convictions quashed as I was not given the opportunity to defend myself.
Drink cycling...
I'd had a pint. Started to cycle home. Bus blocking both lanes of Greenwich High Street due to
parked cars on both sides of road. Bus reversed to try to clear a path for oncoming traffic - nearly
backs into me. I scoot round the inside of the bus and tap on the windscreen, "watch where you're
reversing mate". Police car on opposite carriageway sees this and is in pursuit. "Please step off
your bicycle, sir". I complied. "Have you been drinking, sir?" "Yes." "Then I must ask you to
accompany me to the police station." "Why?" "Because it's an offence to be drunk in charge of a
bicycle." "Who said anything about being drunk?" "You did, sir." "No I didn't."
Blah blah blah.
At the police station I was seen by a doctor who inexplicably pronounced me drunk!
In court the policeman described how I smashed my fist into the windscreen of the bus, yelled abuse
at the driver and ridden off so that he had to drive at speeds of up to 35 mph to catch me.
The bus driver described how I tapped my knuckles on the windscreen of his bus to draw his attention
to something before I cycled off.
The magistrate asked the prosecutor if she believed that Mr Gonzalez could cycle like the Yellow
Jersey in the Tour de France and still be drunk.
The prosecutor replied that some cyclists cycle better after a few drinks.
The magistrate asked if I had anything to say about that.
I said that I thought the prosecutor had seen too many Carling Black Label adverts, and that she
believed that it refreshed the cyclists other beers could not reach.
The magistrate went red in the face, puffed himself up, and said, "NO! No! no! Mr Gonzalez, that is
quite wrong. It wasn't Carling Black Label... It was Heineken."
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