Every Johnny-come-lately has been looking for that surefire moneymaker since the first classic car boom of the 1980s. As a result, barn finds and vulnerable widows who let you tow away their late hubby's 'old car' for a fiver are now about as commonplace as talented folk on X Factor.
That's why Shed thinks out of the box. He's been on the prowl for a stylish roadster in the 10-15k bracket for a while now, with a view to hanging about outside the Grosvenor Hotel during the Christmas Party season and offering a lift to one of those falling-down-drunk fillies who do something in advertising. (An unseemly aspiration, it must immediately be noted, and one inspired by an oddly antipathetic article in the Daily Mail with photography Shed could only describe as 'gratifying'.)
Always astute to the main chance (in love as well as motoring), Shed would never dip his slightly cheesy toe in the roadster market in the summer when prices are stupid. But bitter experience has taught his usually meagre £1k budget won't cut the mustard with the target audience, and purse-strings must be loosened before anything else will be.
Now that canny 'wait and see' strategy looks like being rewarded, with
the appearance in the PH classifieds of this Renault Sport Spider
. Like the scantily-clad party girls inhabiting Shed's fevered imagination, this quirky little Frenchie sneers at the very idea of weather protection. More importantly, at a fiver under £13k, it could be the best motoring investment since Jerry Lee bought a (now) £2.9m 007 Aston for $12,000 in 1969.
That may be overstating it slightly, but this little beauty does hold a certain promise for the sportingly-inclined gent.
If you ask any half-sober classic car dealer for the three big secrets of motoring investment potential, two of his answers should be 'rarity' and 'racing heritage'. The Sport Spider ticks both boxes. Only two hundred or so were sold in the UK. Admittedly, their racing career was in Renault's own one-make series, but Spiders gave both Jason Plato and Andy Priaulx a useful leg-up into the BTCC races they supported.
Many of the Spiders that escaped the track were thrashed to overcome a performance deficit which the journos of the day thought they had identified. In fact, the first 930kg road cars delivered 6.5-second 0-60 times and a top end of just over 130mph, about as quick as you'd want to go in something with no side windows. But the common perception in the mags was that the performance supplied by the Clio Williams 148bhp 2-litre motor didn't match the wild (for then, anyway) styling of the scissor-doored plastic bodywork.
The journalists' misconception could be your gain. Renault refused to sully the car's styling with any form of weather equipment, so surviving Spiders really should be in good nick as they've all lived in garages. This particular 19,000-miler looks primed to supply a fulfilling and very different fair-weather or late evening drive experience. The chassis is aluminium, the lines have almost come back into fashion, and it's got that spartan Elise thing going on, albeit with properly comfortable leather seats, easier access for the ladies and a lot more body-popping room in the cabin. If you're cracking on a bit, like Shed, these factors take on special significance.
The third secret of classic car value? Celebrity butt syndrome, or 'provenance' as it is sometimes more grandly known.
But as Shed (a rueful investor in the odd West End musical) says, it's not about guessing whose bum might once have graced your passenger seat - it's always about the next one.