Oh, go on then - I'll trot out my corset story again
Once upon a time, one sunny weekday afternoon I was sat at my desk, distracted by the weather, so decided to nip out on the bike for a spin. So I headed down to the Mersey for a blat down to Didsbury. Near the afore-mentioned Sale Water Park there's a spot of Singletrack nadgery through the trees.
Its generally known that it tends to be a bit dubious of an evening. Blokes of a certain disposition, wandering around the bushes like over-sexed zombies. Are they walking their dog? I can't see any dog. Terrible sights have been reported. But on an early afternoon I thought I'd be safe. How wrong I was.
As I rounded a corner I was treated to a sight that will be seared into my memory forever. Like a Vietnam vet remembering the tet offensive, it's likely to require couselling.
A bloke, 50 if he was a day, was blocking the path in front of me. Not quite dressed for dog walking to say the least. He was sporting full make up, a corset and..... erm..... no, that was the lot. We stopped and stared at each other for a second, then he moved aside and let me past. As if it was the most natural thing in the world to be wandering around like that on a midweek lunchtime. I carried on, wondering if I was having some kind of acid flashback. I wasn't.
So... that's Sale Water Park for you. You can imagine what its like at night