Swinnow wrote:Pista wrote:Ever stolen a traffic cone on a drunken night? Pffft. Amateurs
When we were students we once 'found' a set of temporary traffic lights on the way home from the Eagle Tavern in Leeds lol.
That pub's AC/DC scrumpy was lethal and well worth a trip east of the student ghetto of Woodhouse/Burley. We never got them to work as our band's lighting rig either

We were coming back to Leeds from a trip to Scotland, 8 student divers in the back of a minibus, the floor covered in cylinders. On the motorway there's a tailback, and there's one of those temporary lights shining on a traffic sign. You know the ones - big effing thing attached to a gas bottle, blazing with the brightness of a thousand suns. One of those. We're stopped in the right lane, traffic stalled for miles.
Let's nick it.
So a couple of us hopped out the back of the bus, onto the median, grabbed the bottle with the light on it and struggled it into back of the bus. Shining with the brightness of a thousand suns.
What we hadn't reckoned on was...there's no off-switch. You need a little key or something. So there's this minibus with 3 billion candlepower of light pouring out of it. We're getting a tan just sitting there.
By now we've moved on a bit, so we're past putting it back by the traffic sign. And oh f
uck the traffic is starting to clear. We can't stop in the right-hand lane, we can't move across the the hard shoulder and dump it because there's still a lot of cars.
So we're pootling along, maybe 20, 25mph, a blue minibus with 8 student divers, shining with the brightness of a thousand suns. A bit further on we slide back into the middle lane - right, things are looking up. Get past the next exit, get onto the inside, pull over onto the hard shoulder and dump the f
ucker. Job done.
Then, looking out the back window, we see something flashing. Something blue. Something blue, flashing, and attached to a white Range Rover with big orange squares on the side. They seem quite keen to attract our attention. Quick, throw a jacket over the lamp, maybe they won't see it.
A fleece jacket covers a thing shining brighter than a thousand suns. Doesn't exactly conceal it.
The blue flashing lights get closer. And closer. Then they're behind us, and the siren blips.
We move to the inside lane, and onto the shoulder. The blue flashing lights pull up behind us. Oh f
uck.
A yellow flak jacket emerges, and comes to the driver's side. "Evening sir."
Evening officer.
"And where are you heading to this evening?"
Back to Leeds Poly.
"Were you aware, sir, that there appears to be a very bright light emanating from the rear of your vehicle, and it's distracting other road users?"
Really? No, that's certainly news to us, officer. A bright light, you say?
"Yes, it appears that your minibus is transporting a portable sun of some description. Mind if I take a look?"
Please, be my guest.
Copper comes round to the back, opens the door. 8 student divers, 20 air tanks, and a big f
uck-off gas cylinder attached to something shining brighter than a thousand suns.
"Oh, that's what it is. Sergeant - come and give me a hand with this."
They wrestle the lamp out the back and set it on the side of the road. One of them gets something out of his pocket and manages to turn it off.
"That's the thing, lads - you need a special key to turn these on and off. Now, if I catch you on my motorway again I'm going to have you all for theft, vandalism, and anything else I can think of. I've got your number. Now f
uck off."
And off we jolly-well f
ucked.
Postscript: it was the poly minibus, and so it wasn't just used by us. 3 weeks later the hockey club, a bigger bunch of arseholes and tw@s you never met in your life, borrowed it. And they were stopped. By the same copper. And they were arseholes. And they got to spend the night in Armley nick. And they were banned from using the minibus again. Result, I reckon.