The Club Warehouse

By Dave Tooley

When I first joined the Solent City Scooter Club, I was told that I’d never have to worry about obtaining spares again because the club had possession of a warehouse full of old bike bits which members could purchase at a knock down rate.

This sounded wonderful, and I got quite excited about the opportunity to go and take a look.  On further investigation, this ‘warehouse’ turned out to be a small rented shed down a back alley in  Gosport. It was dark, dingy, and full of what was basically crap. Great if you owned a series one Lambretta, but pretty much useless for anything else. The good side of it was an extremely pretty young red headed girl who had recently joined the club (D.A. for members who remember her) lived in a bungalow only just around the corner, and often joined us for a chat whenever any of us went there.

Funny how often we got the urge to go looking for series one spares!

One Saturday, Marten and I got invited into her parents bungalow for a coffee.  Whilst we were both in there chatting to her Mum and Dad (who incidentally were a lovely couple) D.A. scurried off into her bedroom and re-appeared a few minutes later sporting the skimpiest bikini both Marten and I had ever seen.  Now this girl had a REALLY good figure, and showed it off to the very best advantage with her new microscopic swimwear.  She was only 15 at the time, and was built like a racing snake.

“What do you think of my new bikini lads?” she innocently asked us.

There was a long silence whilst we both swallowed hard.  Then both of us burbled simultaneously “Hmmmm, very nice”  It came out all gurgly, because we were both dribbling.

Unfortunately, her parents sussed out we were having disturbances in the trouser department, and much to our disappointment sent her packing back into her room to get some clothes back on.  We could quite happily have stood there all day studying her from every angle…PERVS!

I had many a fantasy about that girl, and actually summoned up the courage to invite her out a couple of times, but nothing ever came of it.  In those days my bike was far more important to me than lusty females, and I couldn’t compete with the older guys in the club anyway, who all seemed to be earning three times the amount I was in my lowly paid apprenticeship.

Note from Marten:

After my divorce I was at the local tennis club watching the ladies play squash as I was doing the catering at the time and had a few spare mins. This blonde lady came over to me and said "you don't recognise me do you, yes I said you are Denise the tennis coach's wife. yes she said but I remember you from back in the early 70's by the shed, the penny dropped Denise had gained a few pounds over the years, and I had had several pints, but you used to be gorgeous I muttered and then wished the earth had opened and swallowed me". Luckily Denise realised that I was worse for wear, we are still friends. But I wish I had some photos of the Guys and Mainly Girls from back then.