When I was growing up in the
sixties we lived in North London and one of the things I really loved to do was
to go swimming and we were quite well fixed for pools in the area and I would
swim until the chlorinated water left my eyes red and sore.
But of all the pools I swam
in, the one I loved to swim in most of all was the Durnsford Road Lido,
especially during the summer months.
It was only sixpence to get
in and for that paltry sum you could stay all day long, which of course I did
and I would spend as many days of the holidays there as I could, playing with
friends and watching Mad Jack stunt diving off the high platform.
When I first started to go
there it was just a joy to spend all the time in the sparkling water.
As I got older, I would come
to appreciate the many delicacies on which to feast the eyes upon, delicacies
invisible to the eye of the eleven-year-old boy who first visited the pool.
On one particular visit after
I’d got the maximum value from my sixpence and enjoyed a full day in the pool, I
was getting changed and I caught sight of something quite disturbing as an old
man stepped out of the shower.
Though when I say he was an
old man I should point out that from the perspective of a teenage boy everyone
over twenty was old.
But just as he passed me he
lowered his towel, though not in a pervy way, and he revealed the biggest
scrotum I had ever seen, before or since, not that I had seen a lot of scrota
and those I had seen belonged to my peer group so were somewhat pink and
hairless.
But not only was this old
man’s scrotum huge it was also purple, in fact it looked like a large purple
boxing glove.
I was taken aback by the
extraordinary spectacle but with my limited knowledge of old men’s genitalia I
was left to conclude that I was destined to acquire a large purple ball bag of
my own one day, and as I stood there holding my speedos in front of my
shrivelled specimen I thought
“If I’m going to get one like
that, then I’m definitely going to need bigger trunks”
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