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A motorcycle tale from a friend.


Bugsy

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This is a story from a friend from Manchester (who now lives in New York).

I could tell you a funny story about riding in France.

92' Bol D'or

GPZ9

Me

My reluctance to pay for summat that's free............< typical Salford twat!!!!!

Missus

Inspector Clouseau

Gendarmerie

Autoroute Toll booths

Armed French Soldiers/Gendarmerie?

All right...are we sitting comfortably?

Picture the run down to the B'ol.....in 92, on a still tasty (and quick) Geep9.....ok, thats done, lets get on to the much more boring return, all Autoroute's on account of 1: " the need for speed"..or intime to get the ferry,and

2: the Tolls being "gratis"/ "libre" or free, on account of the froggy's being mad about bikes.

So I am now in Northern France...me, the faithful old geep, the faithful( well, upto a point) now ex girlfriend, and true to form, most of my mates have either gone on ahead, been left behind, or in the case of Bob the courier, still lost somewhere in Italy!!!

So it's aboot 11PM, been riding all day, flogging the bike, every single toll has me doing my "Gratis, pour le B'ol Dor,"? a big cheesy smile, and with a wave the boy/girl lifts the barrier and on we go......

I have done this from joining the Autoroute system, to the final toll before we exit for the run to Calais........

So we approach the final Toll, I am by now out of Francs, credit card is beyond maxed, dog tired......roll up to the toll and start my "bonjour mademoiselle, Gratis pour le B'ol dor" routine to the tired but attarctive young French filly....BUT , wait, this is deep into Northern France, they don't get 1/2 the tourist money of the South and don't give a flying fook about the B'ol, so I am am asked for payment.....probably about 35 Francs, which I don't have, and..even if I did, on principal will not hand over after my succesful run thus far.

So , I am off the bike, begging , pleading, Maggie is looking around, bit worried now, quite a crowd building behind us ( it's midnight, only 1 toll lane open)

I notice a rather shifty looking French fellow, pulled in right behind us, big air shock powered Citroen, smoking a tab, starting to talk..no shout to the toll attendant, then Maggie....now waving his arms, and shouting at me.....

I am pissed, and English, this simply will not do, restless natives and all that....

I ignore him, plead with the girl, she looks ....worried....no , maybe a bit scared, maggie pleads with me to give it up, but, by jove, an Englishman abroad, a Biker, proud warrior of the road, i can't lose face now...I plead some more,French geezer comes towards me, hands like a farmers, he goes to grab me, I shove him away......

Out of the corner of my eye i see movement, off to the left, big grey building....figures, walking, running, uniforms....GUNS!!

bit worried now, start to rip into my bungeed bags......looking for Francs, Pesos, Lire, any bloody thing!!

French geezer comes at me again, shouting, waving, reaches into his pocket.....A gun??? s!£t, no, some kind of leather wallet, some writing, official looking......parking attendant?? No.....cop....s!£t.....balls have shrunk to nothing....no longer a man in my girlfriends eyes, wait, here come the armed Gendarmerie.....soldiers....young, lots of them, 5, 10, 15,....must be a bloody barracks........balls have shrunk to pixels, French geezer right in my ear, waving, shouting, arms faliling.....here comes the biggest, ugliest soldier, lloks just like the French Legion.....

Walks right up to me...looks at Maggie, looks at the Toll attendant..says something to her..looks at me..........sly smile on his face, I shrink, geezer towers over me, arm on my shoulder......I see

Sand..........soldiers with white hats........more sand, Legionaires, me in a white box hat, standing in the desert, sweating, holding a French Flag.......

Soldier grabs me, looks at the Geep, looks at his mates, Maggie is crying.....I am not far behind.....

Soldier walks up to French geezer/cop..........wait.....shouts at him, geezer holds up warrant card, soldier turns to me, smiles....grabs French geezer, spread-eagles him across his own Citroen, another soldier grabs him.........big ugly soldier walks over to me.........I think I MAY of done a wee in my leathers.....soldiers smiles, pats the Geeps tank......'Kawasaki 900 , Oui??".....Oui I reply, soldier jumps on Bike......my brain wakes up, I smile hand him my helmet....my keys...he starts Bike.......toll attendant raises barrier........soldier boy gives it the berries for about 1/2 mile, his mates all cheering and waving their guns, turns round, gives it the berries back the same way, wrong side of the exit road, stops.....hands me the Bike, the keys.....smiles, asks me if I have come from "The B'ol".........wishes me a "bon nuit"...............and as me and Maggie wheelie away from the toll booth, I see in my mirror old Frenchy geezer still spread eagled across the bonnet of his Citroen................

You should of seen my smile....................I think it lit up the M1/M6 and M62 ..............................................

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