Yes, yes, yes. Microscooters are for young men with stupid hair who work in Shoreditch, and maybe the occasional small child. But hear me out.
When I was little, I had a Triang scooter which was my favourite non-cuddly toy. My dad had repainted it silver, and it had red handlebar grips. I rode it until it broke.
When the microscooter craze first hit in the early '00s, I was delighted that adults could suddenly have scooters again. I bought one with flashing red LEDs in the wheels and rode it until it broke.
I look forward to whizzing around Forest Hill on this one, pretending if necessary that I'm taking it home for a ficitious tot I've just dropped off at its posh nursery.
Here is the conversation I had with the salesman:
- Hi, I ordered something online and I was wondering if it had arrived yet.
- What was it?
- *mutters* Microscooter.
- Oh, was it the Thundercats one?
- *mutters* Yes.
- Is it for yourself?
- *mutters* Might be.
I deserved that, really.