I'd like to call them wankers, but I don't know if they do the group "soggy biscuit" gig together, but today I was surprised that a bunch of aging baby boomers on restored, shiny bonnies, Nortans, Ariels etc didn't have the decencey to even say Gday at one of the local watering holes.
Sure, they saw me pull up on an unwashed, clay splattered scrambler of recent manufacture, sure, I look like a hat full of arseholes on my best days, but sheesh, when did wankers start crossing over to the Triumph side of life.
I got over it quite quickly, downed my pint, and chatted to a couple of regulars, one on a 1925 New York police Indian, and the other on a late model Yammy road bike.
The Indian dude is a cool ol coot, and can spank that beastie when required.
Might be time for me to search out another marque. The wankers have assimilated with the Trumpy folk.![]()
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