Bicycle riding and narcissism


I once bought a Jeep with leather seats just to impress a man. It worked.
A couple of weeks later that man was sitting beside me in that very Jeep. I forget his name … I just remember that I felt like waving to everybody in the streets and pointing at the Man, to show him off so to speak.
The fact that I’m a Single Female Bicycle Rider now shows that it did not last. But surprisingly I feel really sexy when I ride my Kronan through Alice. Of course this is an illusion because I’m too old to be sexy and a bicycle is the last thing that is considered cool, let alone sexy. But there you are, do not ask me why but I feel sexy while on a bike.
I start glancing at other bicycle riders to see if I find any of them sexy. No, definitely not. But I can see that those that are in control of their bike … that they too feel sexy.
I’m not talking about those who suffer and labor to build up some speed, no, that definitely is very off-putting, but those that ride effortlessly … they feel as sexy as I do. I can see it, sense it.
They too know that others don’t think them sexy, but they, like I, do not give a damn and continue unencumbered and unburdened, to feel sexy. It is a kind of delicious narcissism; the narcissism of the Single not-necessarily-female Bicycle Rider.
It’s probably the only type of narcissism that doesn’t hurt anybody, even not the Single Female Bicycle Rider.


  1. Some years back, around 1995 to 1997, there was an older woman with an absolutely perfect figure who used to ride up the North Stuart Highway in a bikini most mornings.
    I could never understand why she dressed as she did, but I expect it made her feel sexy (as indeed she was) and gave her a sense of freedom.

  2. Suzanne’s articles make me want to take a slow, sexy and stylish bike ride around Alice again.
    Maybe along the river path or peering into quirky gardens in old Eastside.
    Over to Olive Pink for coffee.
    Out on the Telegraph Station path. Aaah! Sadly where I am now, there are way too many cashed-up amphetamine-fuelled V8 and 4×4 bogans to venture far!

  3. I was nearly de-sexed when riding my boy cousin’s bicycle; I hit a bump and fell forward onto the top tube, oh the pain of it all!
    Nope, those spindly two wheeled things should not be associated with sex as we know it. After all, being viewed traveling around with your bum higher than your boobs really shouldn’t appeal to human males so much as to … but I go too far.
    Give me a 4×4 any day and call me a bogan (but never a bitch) if you wish, but at least my chastity isn’t being threatened.


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