When Batman unloaded the 1966 Silver Special out of the VW Microbus, I knew it was something special. The thing only had 1996 miles on it, and the legshield sticker from Al Fergoda's was still intact, if yellowed by the 20 years it had been sitting in a garage on Russian Hill.
"This thing is already sold. For my friend Sue Ellen. So we are going to make sure it is perfect."
Sue Ellen looked to be about twice my nineteen years, and attractive in a spikey-haired Laurie Anderson / recent divorcée kind of way. She knew nothing about scooters, but she knew Batman and knew Batman knew scooters. Especially Lambrettas.
"Now Sue, you ARE going to bring this back in so we can put some new tires on there, right?" admonished Batman.
She nodded in short, serious nods.
Sue turned to me and asked "Could I PAY you to show me how to ride one of these things?"
"Now?"
Again, the short purposeful nods.
"No need to pay me. The alley around the corner hardly ever has traffic."
She strapped on her brand new helmet and sat behind me on the Special as we putted over to Lexington Alley, just past the 20-Val club, from which knife-fight victims occasionally emerged and crawled up the street.
I showed her the basic controls: the choke and fuel levers beneath the seat, the clutch, gearshift, brakes and so forth. More purposeful nods. I started the bike up and used the kill switch to shut it off. Then she started the bike. First kick. She got on the scooter and lifted it off the centerstand. She pulled in the clutch and twisted the grip into first gear. I told her to give more gas than she thought it could possibly use and slowly -- SLOWLY -- let out the clutch, holding the lever still as the scooter began to move forward, giving it more gas as the clutch engaged. After a few times going up and down the alley, she was ready for second gear. As she accelerated toward me the third time a toothsome grin spread across her face.
She got it. And just like that she was free.
