You may reel in your nemesis over many
miles, watching intently through sweat-riven eyes as the mushroom
that is their distant helmet increases in size from a Enoki to a
Portobello.
Then when you've sat on their wheel and caught your
breath, put on the act, as the practice dictates. Smash past while
whistling, checking your phone, or absent-mindedly chewing on a piece
of grass ... only to be brought out of your reverie by the sound of
your own name.
"Oh... Hi."
BONUS TIP: Now you need to abandon the
entirely made-up melodrama of the daily race, and behave like an
adult, making cheerful, witty conversation for the remainder of the
ride. Curses.
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