You know when you’re walking down the street and you see someone you like and your eyes meet, and for a minute everything around you just stops? It’s just you and that person and nothing else matters. That’s how I felt when I saw the biker jacket. The only difference is that it had no eyes.

I was making my local thrift store rounds earlier this week and I wasn’t really expecting much. But there it was surrounded by fluffy coats and stinky sweaters. I swear it had an aura of light around it. It was a colourblocked biker jacket – yellow, red, blue, white and black – and it didn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before.

“How much for this?”

“€15. Or just €10.”

Alright I thought. Lemme get my wa… Shit. I didn’t have cash. I knew I should have gone thrifting before going to the supermarket. So I went back down to withdraw money, only to bump into a friend and ending up having lunch. All I could think was: biker jacket, biker jacket, biker jacket. And by the time we finished up, the thrift store was closed.

But was anyone really gonna buy a multi-coloured biker jacket? Nah. From my experience I can always tell when something will be snatched up vs. the weird things I like. And this was very far from something people liked, let alone needed. I was convinced.

A couple of days passed until I woke up yesterday with intent to shop: the crazy-ass biker jacket. So I went down to Victoria once more. WITH CASH. And… Nope. The jacket ladies and gentlemen was GONE.

“You sold that jacket? U ejja…”

“A group of rockers came in the next day and one of the guys bought it.”

The British lady could see my heart sink. My biker dreams crushed by a biker dude. I could have worn it a thousand and one ways but now it’s probably chilling outside Tapie’s destined to a life without me.

It was THE jacket.

And now I’ll never have it.

I’m gonna have to be happy with this one.


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