A misadventure

There is an unwritten rule of offroad cycling (see Nixco for written rules) which states that the cyclist should never look at something he wishes to avoid, consequently I hit the pea gravel at speed and sideways, leaving various bits of my epidermis all over it, and severely banging my ribs on the handlebars. The previous time that I came off was on the other bike where I discovered that if one lets one's foot dangle on the dismount, to the same extent as one does from the bike with the bigger frame, one's foot is trying to dangle half an inch undergound, thus speeding the dismount.
The bloke behind me stopped and summed up the situation thus, "I know you're embarrassed but are you all right?".
I dripped from the gouges in my hand and the sandpapering of my left leg, "Think so."
"Gravel rash that'll hurt tomorrow. I've got nothing to offer you but my sympathy."
His sympathy extended to offering up the gravel rash statement five times, I thought he was a bit of a dolt, it hurt like blazes now.
His parting shot, "Which hand is it?"
"Both"
"No wanking for you tonight then!"
How he knew I lived by myself, let alone masturbated, is a mystery to me.