Day 314, "nah then mate, do you wanna buy a bike?"

On the way home from the pub a voice appears from the darkness.

"Nah then mate, do you wanna buy a bike?"

I'm a motorcyclist, I like motorbikes, you never know what my answer to that question might be.

Though not generally in the market for random bike sales but let's hear what the mystery vendor has to say.

The bike was a bit of a battered thing, perhaps fifteen or nearly twenty years old, both side panels were the wrong colour, the seat mainly made of gaffer tape.

"It's not in bad nick is it?"

"No, not bad", I replied.

"He only wants 200 quid for it."

"Really? Is that all?"

"Yeah, he wants a quick sale."

"Does he?"

By this point it would only be fair to point out that I smelled a rat.

I may have been returning from the local real ale outlet but my senses were not completely gone.

"Yeah, not bad is it, I'd have it myself if I had the money."

"Ok," I replied, "what I want you to do is this ..."

"... Do not, ever, ever again, offer my motorbike to anyone for sale, do you understand?"

"Er ..."

"And, if anything happens to my motorbike I will hold you personally responsible, I will find you and I will extract your teeth using a torque wrench, and I will then staple your eyelids to your front door, do you understand?"  Is what I said, or words very similar to that effect.

"Yes, sorry, I'm really sorry, er ..."

"Good.  Now fuck off."

Can anyone resist a V4?

And then he got into the car next to my bike, where his mate - one of my neighbours - was sitting.

I still have the bike, it is now over thirty years old.

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