|This is a Silverwing - not my little bike|
So there I was, sitting on my scooter, adjusting my helmet, outside the library - admiring a big touring bike, a Silverwing, thinking how nice it would be to be a passenger on same as the seats look like armchairs: when a really old gentleman, holding a shopping bag comes up to me and starts talking about how big and heavy that bike is. He pulls out the passenger pedal and says that it is a bit small for his wife. He looks admiringly at my scooter (I mean, who wouldn't?) and tells me he is thinking of perhaps getting one, (he is 83). I wonder privately, if he could pass a test at his age, but I smile and say I think that would be a good idea. Imagine my surprise, when his next move is to produce a key, pop up the seat on the Silverwing, take out a helmet and put it on. You could have knocked me over with a feather. He climbed on, started the motor, grinned at me and pulled decorously away. Well, I never! Clearly, once a biker, always a biker.