(Fragment Chapter 10)
Buying an old rattletrap, fixing it up, and selling it. Riding bikes was fun, but taking them apart was even better. And not just any old motorbike, no, a Zündapp . Steel and aluminum. No plastic, no frills. It was a motorbike, what we called a “brommer,” but we lovingly nicknamed it “brommert.”
I saw my first one, my cousin’s, when I was fourteen and I could only ride on the back. It was love at first sight (with the Zündapp, obviously). At fifteen I bought my very own Zündapp, in part with the money I made with my paper route, but I couldn’t ride it officially until I was sixteen. Unfortunately, that worked out differently, due to unforeseen circumstances.