Cyclists: first up against the wall

Like everyone, I have a List. You know the List: the people who'll be first up against the wall when the revolution comes, if you have your way. Don't try and pretend otherwise, I know you've got one too.

Today there's a new entry at the top of my List: cyclists. Seriously, guys, can you please make up your minds whether you're a road vehicle or a pseudo-pedestrian? Yes, yes, I know - a road vehicle. That's your story and you're sticking to it, right?

Fine, if that's the case, I'll treat you like a road vehicle when I'm in my car, and I'll do the same when I'm on foot. But you're going to have to make a couple of commitments to me, too. You're going to have to stop at red lights; you're going to have to indicate when you turn. You're going to have to stop riding silently up behind me on the pavement before screaming to a halt and swearing at me when I unsuspectingly veer a bit to the side and narrowly escape the pleasure of your full aluminium-framed weight in the small of my back.

And no, I don't feel any need to apologise for the generalisation; not when I'm greeted almost every morning by the cry of "bloody pedestrians" from some wretched cyclist as they rocket along the pavement or roar across a red light six inches away from me.

I'd like to think that we can get on ok if we both stick to the rules. But don't test me, people. I have a big stick and I'm not afraid to use it.