rules for overtaking a middle-aged woman riding a bike that is clearly inferior to yours...

OR: The Dale Carnegie Cycling Etiquette Course summarized 

I got passed again today riding west along Airport Road. This is getting to be a habit; it's the third time in three rides. 

All three riders were fit males on expensive-looking road bikes, so I had no reason to feel ashamed, but I am convinced they all graduated with honours from the above-mentioned program.

The basic tenets of the program seem to be as follows:
1) sneak up on the woman
2) pass her slowly and make some sort of complimentary remark or gesture. This can be sweetly condescending or matey.
3) perfect a foreign accent. Any accent will do, but Dutch, English and French are preferred
4) ride in front of her for a while, allowing her to benefit from your drafting prowess
5) take off!

Here is how the men I encountered put their training into practice:
Guy #1 -- takes a l-o-n-g time to catch up to me. When he does, he smiles and says in a charming Dutch accent and a respectful tone of voice, "You're doing pretty good on dat bike." (I was riding Miranda, my refurbished mountain/hybrid bike, that day.) Rides in front of me for a stretch and then takes off to pass another unwary rider.

Guy #2 -- swift and silent. Appears suddenly out of nowhere in the middle of a climb. I jump. "Sorry about dat," he says in a possibly-Spanish accent. When I realize that I, too, can go faster up this hill and step up my pace so that I am keeping a consistent, though significant, distance behind him, he looks back a few times, as if in amazement. When I ride past him on the flat, while he is stopped for a water break, he gives me the thumbs-up and a big smile.

Guy #3 -- again appears out of nowhere. Says a cheery "Good morning." Upper-class English accent this time. "You were effing packing a blooming good pace on that hill. I had to work my butt off," he adds. Except that he doesn't say effing, blooming or butt.** Slows down, rides in front of me for quite a distance, allowing me a good view of the see-through portion of his cycling shorts. Eww. When we hit the really big hill, he gives it all he's got and speeds up, leaving me in the dust. I haven't decided yet whether I should feel insulted or honoured that he addressed me like one of the blokes. Then again, maybe he didn't -- maybe he moderated his language for my sake.

** Incidentally, this is the first and only time anyone has sworn at me while I was riding my bike.