It's getting better, isn't it? I think so...so much so I can't even bear to look at the older stuff at the bottom! I worry at what shocking errors I will find...maybe it's better that way; signs of progression!
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
...derek's chopper
Looking back it was nothing but pure jealousy, but I coveted that bike for than any friends girlfriend or attractive cousin that's for sure. Derek strode around on that Chopper seemingly all summer like he owned the estate, doing laps and laps around the streets, rubbing my nose in it at every opportunity. His smugger than smug expression rankled me. At that 10 years old, I didn't know what I was feeling of course, I just hated Derek. I hated him, but I loved his bike.
The frame was red, bright red, the tyres and saddle were a shiny black, the chrome bars and metal wheels twinkled in the hot summer sun. It was a beauty. It was a present for Derek after his Mum had given birth to a daughter. Which made it worse, it wasn't even for Christmas or a birthday or a rich aunt. It was just a "because" present. So unfair, and he sooo knew it.
He only laughed at me, you see. The other kids had bikes, racers mostly, or the girls had pink bikes with tassels on the handlebars with those pointless shopping baskets on them. They never went shopping, their Mum's wouldn't let them ride down the hill to the shops and the girls wouldn't ride back up the hill either as it was too steep. Pointless. Me? I had a Tomahawk. It was like a Chopper, but smaller. Mine was red too, but the paintwork had chipped, the wheels were off kilter slightly and the seat had been cut with a knife (I blamed Derek for that too.) I suppose it was penis envy for kids, his was bigger, better, it had gears! Mine was just second hand and faulty.
He tormented me that I could have a go on it, just the once. I didn't believe him as he offered me the saddle to sit on. My temptation was too much to bear and sat on the holy grail. It felt like a grown-ups bike, everything felt more sturdy and luxurious. Derek stood in front of the handlebars to keep the bike upright, his legs astride the wheel. Little did I know but his bigger mate, Darren was behind me. I had no idea what was going to happen next but I knew the ruse of Derek giving me a go on it was to good to be true. Darren reached for my underpants and give me a huge 'wedgie'. The sound of the fabric tearing was nothing compared to what I felt was rupturing downstairs. The excruciating pain (and embarrassment as the girls turned up) was intensifying as the tears rolled down my face.
I tried to get off the bike, but caught my foot on the seat and fell on tarmac road. So there I was y-fronts ripped, sobbing heartfelt tears. All of the assembled crowd were laughing at me, including Jenny, who I fancied a bit. She had boobs. I ran home the best I could with my bum cheeks being red raw and spent the rest of the holidays playing Subbuteo with my little brother. He kept on breaking the players, he even threw the goalposts at me as I kept beating him.
I still don't own a bike now. I'm 37. Still, it wasn't all bad, I married Jenny!