Puch Grand Prix and Saturday Night Fever Picture the scene... it's 1:30AM and a 16 year old version of me leaves work (restaurant) on his 'ped. It's November, cold and wet. Piss heads stream out of the local 'disco' 'cos it was 1980 and your hero is tired after a night cleaning tables.

Have trouble starting the ped... a crowd gathers. I'm nervous. More trouble when I try to bump it... fuck up and fall over, hit my head on the ground. lots of blood from facial wound. Lots of laughter from crowd. Finally get bike started. Get about 1/4 of a mile and get pulled over by the police- no number plate (well a bit of cardboard)... no brake lights... etc. Sadistic bastard makes me push my bike home (or at least "you're not riding that anywhere you know") Push bike for about 4 miles... mainly up hill.