My father used to potter around town on one of those electric bikes. It was a menace. He fell off it regularly, causing traffic jams as people gallantly rushed to his aid.
Also, as he rarely charged it up it would go flat on him and various family members would have to go out and rescue him and the bike.

Once I drove over a very large steep hill and to my surprise spotted him halfway up the other side, slowly pushing the bike in the middle of the road, with a queue of angry motorists behind him, honking and gesticulating. I parked up, shoved the bike up the hill (on the pavement!) and sent him on his way down the other side. Somewhere I still have the video I made of him freewheeling away, waving one arm in the air. It always makes me chuckle.

Dad was not only stubborn and inconsiderate, he was also terminally sexist - to him women were a sort of subspecies who were incapable of rational thought. Dunno how we all put up with him, really.

Anyway… on the day of his funeral my brother, in the first car with my mother, suddenly pointed out that both the undertaker and minister were female, and wouldn't Dad have been FURIOUS about that!
My mother and brother giggled a bit, and then the other brother looked out of the window and pointed out how slowly they were moving. 'He's still holding the traffic up, then!'

At that point they all gave up trying to be serious and just belly-laughed!
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 11 Apr 2013, 16:05, Reply)