I suppose it was inevitable… I have betrayed the Purple Peril, despite its best efforts to keep me satisfied, our relationship has run its course and I have, like many an ageing Lothario traded the ageing, reliable and slightly heavy partner in for a younger fresher lither model. Looked at in such terms it is perhaps a cruel act but I have softened the blow and am allowing the PP to retain the compost bag as a familiar crutch. This is partly because my new love – The Burgundy Bombshell is complete with not only a tinkly bell but a sparkling built-in stand allowing it to perch at a positively coquettish angle.
I have been flirting with the Burgundy Bombshell for a while in what is now time-honoured fashion over the internet, but before making my final move I did decide to play the field a bit. So following an abortive trip into an emporium heaving with metal, chains and rubber which under other circumstances I may have mistaken for the type of establishment a good convent girl should have no knowledge of whatsoever, I dipped into another similar establishment, accompanied by a knowledgeable colleague. My previous foray had revealed that if I wished to purchase any of their magnificent machines I would need a bank balance approaching the size of the national debt but more to the point I wasn’t keen on any of colours and none of them seemed to have either baskets or bells – a fairly massive omission in my humble opinion. Mind you I don’t think the bouncers sorry assistants, felt my 3 inch heels and rather fetching summer frock met the dress code either – I got the distinct impression I was not on the list and not coming in.
So the second attempt was much more casual – well in dress terms anyway – a shift dress and red espadrilles and the bouncers at this venue seemed much more tolerant and laid back, and as I say I was supported by a trusted companion with extensive knowledge of saddles – well horse saddles anyway – and she soon got into the swing of things spotting potential matches based on my type of criteria – colours and accessories. She deflected the look of scorn that was hovering on the assistants face as I dismissed several on the basis I was not keen on the colour, was very useful when I dismounted one and forgot it may fall over if not supported and best of all ensured I rejected a cheap but heavy silver fox that was proving tempting but would ultimately have ended in tears. But the Burgundy Bombshell was still lurking in the dark recesses of the mind and smelling an opportunity or possibly not able to take any more wittering about colours, baskets or bells our man wizzed off and in a flash had arranged an assignation, some hard bargaining on the price – remember my companion knows how to buy a horse – a flash of plastic and the deed was done.
Such was the BB’s desire to meet with me it arrived a day early, and so we have been on our first date and yes we are gelling, the frame size and position are easier, causing less stress, we seem to fit well and on the quick run out we have already achieved great things… a hill I bottled out of going down the other day is now conquered… not only did we whizz down, we also whizzed back up and I had to resist a shout of glee accompanied by an air punch – just as well as clearly the air punch would have been a bad move as I would have fallen off.
The old and the new are nestled side by side with the compost bag squeezed in the middle, but the Peril should not despair, we have bonded, we will always be fond of each other, never forget our time together and will remain friends. As a good friend should I have sourced a fitter stronger partner for it and I look forward to watching their relationship grow and prosper. Who knows we may even double date!