Chuffed as fuck, I am! :D That's my little 'Blue Bike', that is. Being delivered here tomorrow evening. I went up and had a look at it tonight and really rather fell in love with it. Honda (Cub) 90. There'll be no stopping me now!
All started when I aimlessly wandered into the local EuroSpar today. Just dropped in to pull some wedge and grab a couple of bits. I was just parking my mini trolley out in the foyer and took my customary glance at the notice board there.
This little beauty caught my eye immediately. I liked the colour. I could afford the price. I've long since wrangled with the 'Should I? / Shouldn't I?' of getting a little Honda. I added the number to my phone and, no sooner was I out the door than I'm ringing Dean O', my Consigliari.
Trouble was, I'd fucked up my loudspeaker function. So, me being deaf as a fucking post anyway, and loath to nurture a Brain Tumour by clamping the damn thing against my head, I found myself unable to make out much of what Dean was saying, beyond, " That's a fair bit of money! ".
True. It wasn't peanuts. But then, having just that minute bought some peanuts, for the wild birds here, declaring even as I did so that I was buying a shotgun and shooting the fucking lot of 'em, before they bankrupted me with their peanutty appetites ..... Fuck all much is cheap, these days.
So, anyway, I got on with my business, and probably asked one or two people what they thought. No one could've had much of an opinion, because I was still mentally wrangling as Padarig drove me home. Padraig the taxi, of course.
I explained my thoughts to Padraig; How I wasn't even certain what I'd do with it. I certainly couldn't carry whole loads of shopping home on it. I'd have Rosie for such days. But, I simply might not always feel like harnessing up Rose and trundling into town, or where ever. She might not feel like it! And there have been, already, quite enough incidences where the desperate need of so much as a packet of fag skins has cost me a tenner; Paying a taxi to fetch them out to me ....!
Padraig simply stood and looked hard at me, for a moment. " Ditch, " He said; " How many times, a week, do ye come into town? " I told him, a couple. And back from Dean O's the once. (Of course; Many, if not most weeks there'll be a slip. I'll end up taxi hopping one way or the other again)
" Jeeesuss, Ditch! Ye paying £50 a week on taxi's. That's £200 a Month! " (That hit home! That's more than half my fucking pension! Add in what the horses hay's costing me? How the fuck am I living?!?) " And, this bike, at £X? If it lasts ye even just Y Months? It'll have fucking paid for itself! Get The Fucking Thing!!! ".
That was a hard case to argue with. I came in. Fed the creatures. Hit Google Ie. and searched on " Honda 90 ". Turns out the asking price is perfectly middle of the road. I 'IM'ed' Dean, to get something telligable out of him; He swore by the simplicity and longevity of a Honda engine. Said, " Why not? ". I reached for my phone!
" Hullo. I'm ringing about the Honda. What's to know? ". " Well; What do ye want to know? ", came this easy going voice. " I don't Know! ", I exclaimed, in total honesty. " Well; I don't! ". Said the guy, as we both exploded into genuine laughter at what a pair we were making!
The rest is history. Dean came and go me and drove me out to this small town outside 'Town'. The house alone took our breath away! The fucking Mercedes parked in the drive said it all. The absolutely dapper, borderline elderly guy who came to the door reeked of having Made It. But, 'Made It' by blood, sweat and tears. This guy was Solid.
He opened the side gate and our journey began! Fuck me! Fuckin' Palm Tree set in an immaculately manicured ~ and extensive ~ back lawn?! Way down past all that, he opened a steel, shed door. Dean O' and I exchanged incredulous glances over the 'national stock pile' of turf in a huge side room. (" Turf "? Ye'd probably know that as 'Peat'. Popular and traditional stove fuel here, of course).
But, then we came through yet another door and I think we were both past exchanging glances! Huge fucking motors. A row of them. Each one under a dust sheet. Even I ~ with no earthly interest in motors ~ was dumb struck! I genuinely couldn't get my mind to comprehend the letters peeking out. Was it, " ...illac " ? Maybe, " ...tinental " ? What ever. It was like a fucking battle ship! And that's about when my mind shut down for self protection!
On and on we seemed to be being led. Huge garage after huge garage. I'm sure, and Dean O' swears, there was a Classic looking model RR in there? Fuck knows. Why not?! This guy was a Vintage, Classic Motor Collector! Shit!!!
And, finally, there was my little Blue Bike. He kicked her and away she went. Dean O' gazed and listened appreciatively. Then he hopped on and did a circuit. The guy hopped on and did one. They chatted and enthused about things which mean nothing to me. Then they drifted inside to talk about motors. I just moved around and around my little blue friend. Looking and enjoying.
When they came out, I was sat astride her. Feet in place. We all chatted. I wanted to chat. I wanted to chat all night. Be served my dinner there. Have Orange Dog brought out to me. Lay back and sleep there! Because the last thing in the world I wanted was to get off my little, blue bike! I'd bonded like a good weld!
She's being delivered tomorrow. I can't wait! :D
FREEDOOOOOMMM!!!!!
Well done Ditch!
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