As I was waiting for a light next to a car, the window rolled down and a young feller stuck his head out, looking down at my scooter.
“I seriously love that bike,” he drawled, slowly.
“It’s like being a kid again,” I said. “You know, during the Civil War and stuff.”
“Does it cruise?” he grinned. (Did I smell patchouli?)
“Er, sure … well, there’s the light…”