for sale / sold

I was cycling home from work last week, when I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye. It was so intriguing I had to pull over and walk my bike back along the pavement to get a closer look.



Yes, that is an antique gym horse, displayed outside an antique furnishings and shopfittings shop. Yes, those are iron D-rings attached to the feet. No, there isn't really anything else that could be for.

No price on it. It wouldn't fit in my flat. But there might be room for it at Tom's place ... would he mind me showing up with a random piece of spanking furniture? How would I even get it there without a car? If it turned out to be affordable, I should text him and ask ...

I surreptitiously sneaked a photo, then ducked into the shop to ask how much it was.

"Sold a few days ago," replied the creased, lean man behind the desk. "Still waiting for 'em to collect it, mind."

"How much did it go for?" I asked. Then felt the need to justify my interest. "I'm looking for one for a prop in a film..." (This excuse has the benefit of being at least partly true.)

"Hundred and fifty." Ah. Slightly beyond my immediate budget. (Maybe I could save up, though... Hey, maybe I could justify it as a professional expense. It might even be tax-deductible.) He continued, "Funny how popular they are. We had another one in a few weeks ago, that was snapped right up. In fact we've got a bigger one downstairs, one of the ones that stacks up. You can go down if you want a look."

"No thanks," I said, determined not to be tempted by too-big, too-expensive toys. "I might keep an eye, though, see if you get any more through..."

Apparently North London is full of keen-eyed spankos. I mean, who else would buy something like that? Really?

I went on my way, regretting that I hadn't come by a week ago, and that I hadn't had the nerve to test its size in the street. It looked like it might have been just the right height.