Here in the quiet Gelderland we have little trouble. But it does not pass us by completely unnoticed… The Corona jitters. I turned a short U turn and was right in front of the entrance of the pharmacy. Where the pharmacy is now, there used to be a bank. There is still an ATM in the hall. I wanted to draw some cash, took off my helmet and put it in the sidecar box, got off and walked to the door behind which, in these strange times for freelancers, I still hoped to draw some money.
A whole line of people
Oh yes: A lot of people were waiting on the sidewalk for their turn, at the strictly dosed pharmacy. One of those people, a woman, started to rant. That I had to wait my turn. And I had to stand in the back of the line. That I was antisocial. That motorcyclists were all antisocial gear. That men in the queue had to take action against me…. That I was a bastard. I looked at the men in line and thought, "When they come I can have them." Some people have blamed me for lack of politically correct behavior. So be it. I sat tightly 1,5 meters opposite the lady who chatted. "You are ill. Seriously ill. I see that. I am healthy. I'm doing great. I only come by debit card. Or do you not want flowers on your grave? ” Then everyone was silent and I could quietly pull fifty euros.
Meeting at the Aldi car park
After getting some messages from the Aldi, a neat gray-haired gentleman headed for me: "I want to speak to you, friend." I was surprised to find someone who said 'friend' to meet with the Aldi. His tone suited a golf course better before golf courses were already hijacked by modals and celebrities. The question was whether I knew how irresponsible I was? I did not know. Fortunately, my interlocutor was willing to explain. The situation was too serious to just ride a motorcycle. And he found my hands too dirty. Please, for the sake of all of us, "please take responsibility".
Out of good intentions
I saw that the old man with his already frizzy haircut (hairdressers lock down alert!) Was actually of good will. The good kind of citizen who would report people in hiding during a war because they were so suspiciously aired in a garden after sunset. I told him that my classic sidecar combination was fun, of course, but actually my transportation. "Some kind of car, do you understand?" That my dirty hand was the result of a leaking spray can with RAL 3000 red paint. That I appreciated his attention, but that there was no other way.
A friendly goodbye
He patted me on the shoulder out of habit and said, “Sorry for talking to you like that. I thought you were acting irresponsibly. But you just don't have the money to obey the rules. I hope your business improves soon. And you have a nice old bike! He turned and walked back to his car. An old Jaguar XJ40. With a dent in the left rear wing. Nice guy. Great car. Too bad the muesli cranberry bread was gone by the way at Aldi.
As a thank you for the services rendered, I put my tricycle at home in the spotlight. Shopping again this afternoon. And have keys made in Doesburg. At shoemakerij Van der Sluis they once adopted a whole stock of classic keys. For Kadetts, Alfas, VWs, BMWs and more. But they also have old Harley keys. And apparently the Urals ignition keys are modeled after that old Harley model. I also saw some Simca keychains. Still a nice address. I also buy a pair of plastic clogs every year. They are delicious. You just have to buy them a size larger than you are. They shrink with use. Want to know more about really old ignition keys? ? Email via a.sluis89@chello.nl.
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Fine article again, Dolf. Thick thumb!
And keep your tough with your freelance activities.