A Man is arrested for, well, fucking a bicycle

Observe:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/scotland/glasgow_and_west/7095134.stm

So two hostel cleaning women walk in on a man fornicating with a bicycle and run, terrified, to their equally uptight manager, who consequently calls the police?

The hostel guest – who was no doubt paying for his accomdations – was masturbating, privately, in an unconventional manner.  This is somehow considered worthy of legal intervention? Legal intervention severe enough to land this man on a sex offender’s registry?

A bicycle is an odd object to use for self-stimulation purposes, no question.  However, the shocking miscarriage of justice aside, why aren’t these people acknowledging the absolute hilarity of the situation?

People commit no shortage of strange sexual acts in hotel/hostel rooms.  Now, hostels are a little different from hotels in the sense that many of their rooms house, on average, 2-20 guests.  Sexual activity in a non-private hostel bedroom is riskier than such activity in a hotel, as others may be subjected to viewing something they never agreed to witness.  However, the bicycle-fucker was alone – and in a locked room, no less.   Also, despite the fact that hostels generally house numerous travellers (most of whom are strangers to one another), they probably see their fair share of enthusiastic couplings.

I can’t believe this poor guy’s luck.  The middle-aged dude faces legal recourse after dropping extra Euros to ensure a private bedroom for him and his bicycle – a bedroom guaranteed to be free of North American 20-somethings.  He didn’t wander back, drunk or stoned, at 3 am to engage in loud sex with the Spanish girl he met earlier that night at the pub.  He found a little haven for him and his bike and went to town, only to offend the fragile sensibilities of cleaning women who didn’t have the decency to turn away, close the door, and spend the night three years of their lives in hysterics.

If I walked in on a man fucking a bike, I’d be enthralled.  I wouldn’t stay and watch, mind you, but I’d be glad I witnessed something so strange and, yes, story-worthy.  I’d no doubt tell everyone.  I’d tell co-workers, friends, family members, acquaintances, and strangers.  I’d regale the crowds at cocktail parties (if I ever found myself at one)  with the tale of the time I’d innocently walked into a hostel bedroom and found a half-nude man rigorously riding (in every sense of the word) the sparkly blue metal of his 26″ Schwinn.  People would gasp in shock.  They’d cover their mouths in horror.  But ultimately, they’d end up throwing their heads back in laughter.

When I was staying a hostel in Nice, France, two (sober, might I add) Canadian boys (from my neck of the woods, actually) attempted, in a fit of key-related frustrated, to break down the door to the room.  That was a disturbance. 

Had I walked in on one of them privately masturbating with an inanimate object,  I wouldn’t even have thought to get angry, let alone call the police.  I’d be entertained, if not initially embarrased.  However, my embarrasment would be no match for his own, and I’d acknowledge/accept that.