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.
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 poultry 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, delicacy’s invisible to an eleven-year-old boy’s eye.
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 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 an eleven-year-old 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, 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.
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”
