How do you react to being asked to remove your helmet at a petrol station?

It’s cold, fingers are numb, the sun is setting and there’s still twenty frosty miles left before the warmth of home. But first it’s time for petrol: pull up at the station, unhook the nozzle and the digits won’t budge.

A puzzled look at the attendant is met with a tannoy announcement: “Can you remove your helmet please”.

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