I wouldn't mind so much if he had a proper bicycle. I think inflatable malets with squeakers were invented for Brompton riders. Zealots and weirdos might argue that I harbour some sort of prejudice if I can write that. I do, but it's a perfectly noble and rational one.
Brompton? Schmompton!
On the mea culpa front, I used to 'scoot' my roadified hardtail across the concourse at Paddington from the Advance Bookings Hall to the Praed Street ramp. I was asked not to, so I stopped. It still hurts me somehow that I walk it these days. It adds 25 seconds to a 3-hour journey time. I try to get that time back on HPC, where reckless riding is applauded and rewarded.
I still chain my bike up outside the Paddington WH Smith when I go in for a newspaper. That's my middle-aged act of rebellion and it's cheaper than buying a sportscar or getting unnecessarily divorced. About one time in four I'm asked to remove it and not to do it again, as it is a bomb hazard or similar. If they knew how I felt about that bike, they'd know I wouldn't blow it up.