Old dears' car broken down on a hill.
While down in the West Country visiting my daughter I popped into town to get a paper, and driving out up a very steep hill, encountered a massive queue of traffic. Slowly they all nudged forwards and it became apparent what was holding everyone up- an old dear's car was stopped half-way up the hill with the hazards on and the constant downhill traffic was making it very difficult for the uphill drivers to overtake.

Thinking that I'd do everyone a favour, when it was my turn to get around I pulled in and then backed up in front of the car (some kind of piddly little hatchback) and leaped out to offer a tow to the car park at the top of the hill where they could await recovery in some greater measure of safety, and incidentally freeing up the traffic flow as well.

Looking a bit dubious about the offer, I asked the lady if she had been towed before and she thought she had- I explained the steering would be heavy and the brakes would be ineffective but I'd take it slowly and all she had to do was steer.

Hooking up the tow rope I drew it taut and then proceeded to set off with lots of revs to keep the forward momentum up the 1:3 slope and we were away.

After about 50 yards I could feel a dragging to one side on the steering, and looking in the rear view mirror, saw that she had the nearside wheels up on the grass verge- what was she doing? I thought she must be trying to let people overtake by providing more room. But this was adding more drag so I countered by pulling out towards the centre line- still, she was on the grass verge and now had clipped a road sign, leaving a nasty scratch on the nearside wing.

Still wondering what she was hoping to achieve, I got to the top of the hill and pulled in to the car park, then got out to detach the tow rope.

Going back to see what had happened, she admitted that she'd had the ignition key turned off, and the second she turned the wheel left the ignition lock engaged, making her veer off the road- and naturally, having a panic, didn't think to turn the ignition on to release the lock. So much for having been towed before.

Feeling a bit of chagrin I left my number in case she needed to contact me about insurance and went to unscrew the towing eyelet. Fuck me, it's bent 45 degrees off true.

No good deed goes unpunished.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Mon 13 May 2013, 15:30, 2 replies)

Reminds me of this pearoast:
I was walking up Southover Street, one of the steepest hills in Brighton, a town known for steep hills. Just I was approaching base camp (otherwise known as The Greys), I noticed two blokes attempting to push a car up the hill. I took pity on them, and offered to lend my not inconsiderable bulk to the task.

Eventually, after much puffing, blowing, swearing and near-hernias, we got the car up far enough to get round the corner to a side street, and thankfully I left them to it. As I continued up, I glanced back one last time - and at that point noticed their granny, calmly doing her knitting in the passenger seat.

Bint.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Mon 13 May 2013, 15:42, closed)

To be fair though, they had to put her somewhere.
They wander off. If they'd left her on a bench she could have scarpered while they were shoving the car up the hill. Anything could happen.
(Juan Quar is clinging to her front teeth on, Thu 16 May 2013, 9:01, closed)