How to have a bike ride.
The correct way to have a bike ride to the pub:-
Get on bikes; cycle to a pub; get off bikes; have a drink; get on bikes; cycle back.
The incorrect way to have a bike ride to the pub:-
Get on bikes; cycle to nearest pub; get off bikes and padlock to lamppost; have a drink; try to unlock padlock...
"Hurry up dear, let's get back before it gets dark."
"I can't, the padlock's jammed."
"Bugger."
I asked the pub bar-girl on the off-chance that the pub might happen to have an angle-grinder laying about. No, thought not. We went outside to ponder the situation. I thought about getting a taxi back home and getting the Astra plus my angle-grinder when two "proper" cyclists arrived.
"Hello, having troubles?"
"Yes", replied the wife, "have you got an angle-grinder in your pocket (or are you just pleased to see me? Gosh, they're fit)?"
"Let's have a look..."
They proceeded to tap, bash, prod and poke the lock with gay abandon. They *really* were enjoying themselves. I quietly rang the RAC and asked if they "did" bicycles. No, thought not.
"That's it, I'll call a taxi."
"Why don't you just borrow my bike?", asked one of them.
"Err, sure?"
"Yes, no probs."
"OK, I live just in the next village and anyway, you have my wife for ransom!"
"...and two bikes!"
His bike was a sprint cycle, single gear with a maximum speed of about warp 6 and was an inch wide in total. The saddle was about 6 foot off the floor and the drop handle bars were several feet below that. I rode off down the road with my *rse in the air and my nose scraping the ground. I couldn't see where I was going because I couldn't lift my neck through 90 degrees to look forwards.
I got home in about 4 nano-seconds.
When I got back to the pub with the bike in the boot and a car full of interesting cutting gear, my wife was in full-swing-chat with the guys and half-way through a beer. There was another couple sitting in the garden too who had obviously been ear-wigging the conversation.
"Ah, the entertainment has arrived!"
I unravelled a long mains lead and plugged it into the pub somewhere.
"This is my ironing lead", I said
"Oh?", they looked a bit puzzled.
"Yes. We do extreme ironing..."
I cut through the lock in seconds, sending a shower of sparks into the sunset and began packing up, winding the lead up past the couple.
"Thanks for that. That was fun, are you coming back tomorrow to do another turn?"
The landlady came out to gather glasses. "Oh, angle-grinder! I was told chain-saw. We still have neither though..."
"(thanks)"
We finished our drinks, thanked the guys profusely, and headed home. I heard one of them say on the way out - "Those were the nicest pair of bicycle thieves I've ever met...". They were probably in London before we hit the A2.
"Yeah, strange old evening. D'you know I said that they had you for ransom and yet only wanted the bikes?"
I got the look that said, "bugger, am I that old?"
Get on bikes; cycle to a pub; get off bikes; have a drink; get on bikes; cycle back.
The incorrect way to have a bike ride to the pub:-
Get on bikes; cycle to nearest pub; get off bikes and padlock to lamppost; have a drink; try to unlock padlock...
"Hurry up dear, let's get back before it gets dark."
"I can't, the padlock's jammed."
"Bugger."
I asked the pub bar-girl on the off-chance that the pub might happen to have an angle-grinder laying about. No, thought not. We went outside to ponder the situation. I thought about getting a taxi back home and getting the Astra plus my angle-grinder when two "proper" cyclists arrived.
"Hello, having troubles?"
"Yes", replied the wife, "have you got an angle-grinder in your pocket (or are you just pleased to see me? Gosh, they're fit)?"
"Let's have a look..."
They proceeded to tap, bash, prod and poke the lock with gay abandon. They *really* were enjoying themselves. I quietly rang the RAC and asked if they "did" bicycles. No, thought not.
"That's it, I'll call a taxi."
"Why don't you just borrow my bike?", asked one of them.
"Err, sure?"
"Yes, no probs."
"OK, I live just in the next village and anyway, you have my wife for ransom!"
"...and two bikes!"
His bike was a sprint cycle, single gear with a maximum speed of about warp 6 and was an inch wide in total. The saddle was about 6 foot off the floor and the drop handle bars were several feet below that. I rode off down the road with my *rse in the air and my nose scraping the ground. I couldn't see where I was going because I couldn't lift my neck through 90 degrees to look forwards.
I got home in about 4 nano-seconds.
When I got back to the pub with the bike in the boot and a car full of interesting cutting gear, my wife was in full-swing-chat with the guys and half-way through a beer. There was another couple sitting in the garden too who had obviously been ear-wigging the conversation.
"Ah, the entertainment has arrived!"
I unravelled a long mains lead and plugged it into the pub somewhere.
"This is my ironing lead", I said
"Oh?", they looked a bit puzzled.
"Yes. We do extreme ironing..."
I cut through the lock in seconds, sending a shower of sparks into the sunset and began packing up, winding the lead up past the couple.
"Thanks for that. That was fun, are you coming back tomorrow to do another turn?"
The landlady came out to gather glasses. "Oh, angle-grinder! I was told chain-saw. We still have neither though..."
"(thanks)"
We finished our drinks, thanked the guys profusely, and headed home. I heard one of them say on the way out - "Those were the nicest pair of bicycle thieves I've ever met...". They were probably in London before we hit the A2.
"Yeah, strange old evening. D'you know I said that they had you for ransom and yet only wanted the bikes?"
I got the look that said, "bugger, am I that old?"
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