"You better runnn!" he cackled.

The trip was about 2 miles each way. For someone who enjoys a nice brew (or several...let's be honest) at the end of the day, this was essentially a death sentence, as the voyage entailed traversing mammoth hilly regions of my town. After setting off at a nice pace for...oh, say, 50 yards...I mostly alternated between awkward shuffling, when no cars were around, to half-ass jogging when attractive, young people cruised by (which is 90% of the passerby's in my part of town).
I felt like a bizarre, sweaty idiot.
I eventually returned about an hour and a half later heaving, coughing, and absolutely drenched in sweat to find that I had somehow managed to avoid a ticket but gained a healthy scratch on the side of my car for my effort from an unfortunately large woman with a car full of children. I surveyed the damage and concluded that my need for a shower and air conditioning was more pressing than a passenger side ding, and a fresh bout of heaving sealed the deal. I waved her off and collapsed into the bucket seat as I heard the old man tell me, "You's lucky!"
Yeah, real lucky.