This horse walks into a bar…

Well, maybe not quite that bad but here’s a shaggy dog story for you…

Now I’m not one to have a go at dealers for trying to make a profit. Those of us for whom motorcycIes are purely a hobby sometimes regard anyone who treats old motorcycles as business commodities as a moral-free shyster…

Of course such dodgy dealers do exist…

But in my experience most of the traders I meet are old bike enthusiasts whose hobby has turned into a business.

Nonetheless, every now and then you encounter someone who is plainly a born horse trader and I had the pleasure of witnessing just such a display of expert wheeler-dealing at a show recently.  I’d stopped to examine a very rare old bike. Nothing fantastically exotic but something I’ve never seen in the flesh before; it was unrestored, complete and original and I stood there for a long time, tryng to soak as much of it as possible into my soul.

People wander up; ‘What is it?’ they ask. I tell them; ‘How much is it?’ they ask, I say, ‘I’d guess about seven grand…’

The vendor appears, and he tells me it’s eight. Okay, I wasn’t far off. “D’you want to see the log book?” He asks, sensing a possible sale.

We’re joined by a well-known dealer. As I study the log  book, I notice that one of the previous keepers is somebody I know and he’ll probably be here today. I wander off and in the way of such things within a few minutes I run into him.

“Not going to buy your old bike back then?” I ask, “Not at that price!” says he. “I bought it from the family of the original owner a few years ago for £3000 and moved it on to a bloke down your way for £4000. He’s now sold it to chummy for six; and I hear he’s looking for eight!”

“Oh well, that’s inflation for you.” I reply.

Walking back over to the bike, the vendor seems to have wandered off again, leaving the other dealer still looking at the logbook. A bod breaks out of the shuffling crowd of passers by and approaches him.

“Dammit,” he says, “Might have known you’d have bought it!”  Dealer (who hasn’t bought it) says nothing. “And I was just about to make an offer…” says Bod.

“Well you could buy it from me…” says Dealer, with a glint of steel in his eye. “How much do you want to pay for it?” “Well,” says Bod tentatively, “I was thinking of £10,000…”

“Hmmm,” replies dealer, “Well I paid nearly that for it; and…” waving a hand vaguely in my direction, “I’ve got a chap here who’s swithering at twelve.” Anxious not to get roped in as a stooge I decided to walk away, sharpish.

Now admittedly the bike was still standing there when I left, so I guess neither Bod nor Dealer bought it and it’s also true that there’s many a slip ‘twixt offer and payment…but I couldn’t help wondering what would have happened if it had sold; I’d love to think the Dealer would have had the brass neck to pocket four grand and point to the Vendor, saying ‘Better give the rest to him, mate, it’s his bike!’

Let the buyer beware…

Cheers R