17 horses and McD
One day, well over two decades back, I decided to go for a milkshake. It was a fairly warm day, dry and somewhat dusty, and I had just helped fix up the moto trials terrain with some other members of the club, so some cold refreshment was in order. My transport was an East-German sidecar rig, with the awesome power of seventeen horses propelling it forward. Somewhat.
So I rode up to the intercom, ordered the shake, and proceeded to the till.
"We can't serve you, you're on a motorcycle."
Technically, that would be true. However, the contraption has three wheels; and allows me to just sit on it without further effort to keep it balanced when stationary. Neither would I be hindered in reaching for my wallet, or the consumption, nor would I have no way to ride off except with the shake awkwardly jammed between my thighs, instead having ample room to take several dozen milkshakes with me if I had had that urge. This I conveyed to the cashier in words with as few syllables as feasible.
"We can't serve you, you're on a motorcycle.". This was by some sort of supervisor.
So, apparently their collective IQ was roughly that of one of their salads, and with a warm and heart-felt "fuck you" I rode off to visit the Italian ice-cream parlour in the city centre, Which I should have opted for in the first place, except that it was a bit awkward to reach as I'd have to negotiate a couple of traffic access controls to get there.
I haven't dealt with them ever since.
 with a transport tub instead of a conventional passenger sidecar, quite suitable as a replacement for a car boot. In fact, I had just delivered one and a half railway sleeper to the terrain to be used as obstacles.
 about as much as a Reliant Robin has, although those are decidedly less stable.