First stop fuel. Pull up next to pump. Mr Twatman pulls up next to me, and hits me with his pannier.
FFS, you nearly had me off.
What?
Move foward, you're pushing on my exhaust.
He moves about 3 inches.
Attendant finally arrives and starts filling me up. Suddenly, bike tips over again and i fight to hold it up. Mr Twatman had put his on the sidestand.
I stuggle to keep it upright as the attendant fills it up, while I'm complaining to Mr Twatman.
Mine is full, so i carefully back out from under Mr T's panniers, so the chap can fill his up. Then i hear, oi, watch my bike.
Twat.
Made him pay for brunch