I knew a bloke who bought a Bristol once, in 1971. He was landlord of a pub in Rotherhithe, SE London and I done a disco at his pub. This fella had roadied for bands such as the Beatles and the Small Faces and John Lennon opened his boozer for him when he took it over.
He was also ex boxing middleweight champion of Rotherhithe and was quite chummy with all the local villains.
He wasn't short of a few bob.
Me mate Roy worked as a mechanic at the time at Brands Hatch Motor Racing stables looking after all the Formula Fords and Roy was my partner in crime when we were discotheqing it up. So the pub guvnor asked Roy to check out a motor he wanted to buy somewhere the other side of the river, it was Aylesbury I think.
I went along for the ride, we arrived on a Sunday morning and met the Bristol seller, he reminded me of Terry Thomas (younger patrons here may not be familiar with Terry Thomas) he wore a cravat, had a handlebar moustache and spoke posh like an RAF squadron leader.
Roy gave the Bristol the once over, drove it round the block a few times and declared the motor fit. So the guvnor haggled with Mr Posh and they agreed a price. 'How would you like to pay?' asked Mr Cholmondley Warner 'Cash' replied our man and handed the fella a briefcase, having counted out the price he was prepared to pay previously.
'You can keep the briefcase' said our pub man. Mr Posh looked a bit gobsmacked. The keys were in the Bristol so Billy jumped in, asked me if I wanted to have a ride back to Southwark with him and Roy drove the motor back we'd arrived in.
Mr Posh had opened the briefcase and was counting these bundles of £20 notes so our man shouted out the Bristol's window' 'It's all there mate, don't you trust me?' The reply was 'Well, I have to make sure' to which our guvnor gave his parting shot before driving off 'You make me sick you stuck up ****'.
And that's my Bristol motor car story
