Sudden attack of fanboy.

There I am, walking back through Bath to the office, when a chap hails me from the door of The Bath Tap (an gay pub). There's some cheery banter, then he introduces himself. It's Gary Clail.

[FX: Internal fanboy voice going 'Fuuuuuuuuckk!']

Apparently it's all going pretty well for him. And he's a jolly good chap, even if he did call me a goth. (inna Tog24 fleece, fading indigo jeans and Shimano cleats yet.)