Not to go on about Spinning, but...

There is no better Spinning image than this

Regular attendees of The Shouter's Spinning Class know that if you arrive late, you won't make the cut. All the spaces will be taken. You'll be left outside, bike-free, with nothing more than your own motivation between you and slobbery. 

Even traditionally early is not early enough. For a 7.15 start the class will be full by five past seven. One advantage of this is that if you're not really feeling up to it, you can turn up at 7.13 and tell yourself that it's not your fault that you just can't fit into the class, before returning to your Haagen-Dazs. Others are not so sanguine, and there have been aggressive scenes from those anticipating but deprived some sadomasochistic cycling.

Yesterday I was there the necessary fifteen minutes beforehand, to bagsy my bike with assertively placed water bottle. Despite this, I still had to satisfy myself with the dodgy one at the back by the giant speaker - all the others were already gone. Being at the back has its advantages, I consoled myself, in sheltering from The Shouter and his kind.

Yesterday was different to most days. In came a woman I had never seen before. She was coming to have 'a word' with the class, she explained.

'There have been complaints.'

Silence, but for the whirr of the bikes. (The serious keenos missing no opportunity to warm up.)

I've been away for a bit (getting concussed at netters, amongst other things) so I cowered in my corner, baffled. 

'Is there going to be fighting every week? Or was last week a one-off? Do you really think it's acceptable to reserve bikes so that others don't have the chance to get one?'

I was really starting to enjoy this now.

'For all of you who don't know me, I'm The Shouter's Wife (TSW),' she explained (I assume she works there too, but she might just be over-zealous). 'I have to come and talk to you because there have been so many difficulties with this class. So many complaints from and to management. You need to agree amongst yourself whose bikes are whose.'

By now, I felt like a seven-year-old Kate in the Countryside, sitting in front of Miss David at primary school as she explained to the yeargroup why it wasn't fair to leave Sophie out of games when she wanted to play too. But then, Sophie was a bag.

McEnroe: Banned from Spin Class

TSW was now explaining the intricacies of fair play. It was acceptable, she said, to save a bike before going to the loo - 'you need to be sensible' - but not before going for a lengthy stroll. I feared the lecture would never end. I was not the only one. 

At last: 'Are you going to behave?'

'Yes!' Shouted some errant fool, pre-emptively caught by the Spinning Room's adrenalin rush. They just love audience participation, these oldies.

'Right. We'll see if you can work things out for a month. If there's any more problems, we're going to have to … do something about it.' 

Punchy. 

'Have a great lesson then you guys! Good to chat!'

In walked The Shouter, looking sheepish. You could almost hear the yummy mummies in the front row thinking how much nicer they were than his wife. If he'd only notice.