Rebel without a Clue
Phyllis Baxter rolled her eyes and stared out the window of the car as Joe, once again, deflected her demand to know where they were going. She listened to him go on about potential adventures, exciting activities, and the open road without really paying any attention to him.
"Joe….Joe!" she finally interrupted. "We really need to talk—"
"Just wait until you see what I've got in mind, Phyllis!" he crowed. "You're going to love it!"
"I'd love to just talk to you for a moment," she snapped, throwing him an exasperated look.
"Hang on!" he replied, signally for a left turn and guiding the car into the lot of a large, sprawling auto dealership.
"Why are we here, Joe?"
"It's a surprise!" he said excitedly, switching off the engine and getting out of the car quickly. Phyllis sat and watched in bemused apprehension as he bolted around the car to open her door with a flourish.
"A surprise…" she mumbled as she got out, giving him a side eyed glare. "I've come to be very cautious about surprises where we're concerned."
"I honestly forgot about your allergy when I baked that cake for your birthday, Phyllis," he replied defensively.
"I know," she said with a sigh and a brief smile. "But you have to admit, we're rubbish when it comes to surprising each other. We either end up in hospital or one of us sleeping on the settee."
"Well, this will be different," Joe maintained smugly. "You'll see."
Joe grabbed her hand and began tugging her off to another part of the lot. Phyllis resisted and tugged him to a stop.
"I really need to talk to you, Joe," she said seriously. "Can this surprise wait a bit?"
"We're already here," Joe protested. "How about I treat you to dinner-" he lifted a finger when she tried to interrupt, "-out. I won't cook this time. Alright?"
Phyllis sighed and shrugged. "Alright. But there really is something we need to discuss."
"And we will," Joe promised with a grin, "but I really, really am anxious to show you something right now."
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he began leading her off again. Phyllis looked with curiosity around the lot.
"Both of the cars are in good repair, Joe," she commented. "What in the world are you thinking about…"
She trailed off as Joe suddenly dropped his arm and ran over to a large, shining motorbike. A salesman sidled over to them with the look of a man who was spending his commission already.
"Beauty, ent she?" the salesman began. "One owner, low milage…lots of life on the open road left in this girl."
"I'm Joe Molesley," Joe said, reaching out to shake the man's hand enthusiastically. "I believe we spoke on the phone?"
"Oh, aye," he confirmed with a grin. "I'm Jack-expert on motorbikes at this dealership." He turned to smile rakishly at Phyllis, who was standing with her mouth hanging open, watching Joe caress the handlebars of the motorbike. When Phyllis declined to introduce herself, his smile slipped slightly and he turned to direct all his charm towards Joe.
"So…what are y' looking for, exactly?" the salesman asked. "Cause we've got lots of bikes. I know we'll be able to kit you out with the perfect one for you and your, um…companion."
His words finally sunk in past Phyllis' shock, and she shook her head, as if to clear them out right smartish.
"Excuse me," she said suddenly, dismissing the salesman and turning to Joe, "have you lost your bloody mind?"
"See, I was thinking—" Joe began.
"Oh I don't think you were," Phyllis interrupted. "You've been seriously considering buying a bloody motorbike?"
Joe looked at her with surprise at her vehemence and glanced over at the salesman, as if for moral support. After a sympathetic glance, the salesman stepped back a bit and settled in to watch what might prove to be an amusing show.
"I was thinking about it, yeah," Joe said, wincing a bit at Phyllis' loud and indignant snort. "It would so cool, Phyllis. We could spend weekends taking road trips together-it would be much more exciting than the train or the car."
"Joe-"
"Just imagine…the wind on our faces…the curves and the dips…you on the back, holding on to me…" At her incredulous expression, he hastened to add: "Or me on the back holding on to you?"
"Joe…have you ever driven a motorbike?"
"I think the word is ride a motorcycle," he replied, looking over to the salesman for confirmation. Other than a twitching of his lips, the salesman made no comment.
"Ride…drive…what the bloody hell ever," Phyllis snapped. "Have you ever even been on a motorbike in your life?"
"Well…one of my mates in secondary had a dirt bike that he let me sit on…" Joe mumbled.
"So the answer would be no, then?"
"They do lessons for this sort of thing, Phyllis. We could learn. We could learn together even, so we could both drive it…ride it…" Joe trailed off as Phyllis shut her eyes and began a spot of deep breathing. "Phyllis? Love?"
"First of all," she began through gritted teeth, "you are perhaps the most accident prone man I've ever had the pleasure to know. You bashed your shin on the door frame of the car just getting into it this morning."
"I don't see what that has to do with—"
"So for you to consider learning to ride something rife with potential catastrophic organ damage strikes me as a horrible, horrible decision. I've never even seen you ride a bicycle!"
"I didn't have the best experience with a bike when I was younger," he replied somewhat petulantly, "but I do know how to ride one."
"Precisely. You've got sense enough to stay off a bicycle, but you want to buy a bloody motorbike?!"
"I thought it might be fun!" he blurted. "Something different and exciting. I'm not the most inspiring bloke in the world, I do know that." At her confused look, he sighed and continued: "I just thought it might be a good idea to keep things fun and exciting…you know…"
"Know what?"
"Before I bore you tears," he snapped, "and you get bloody fed up and go off me."
"I can assure you that buying a motorbike for the two of us is not the pathway to a long term relationship," she replied in a gentler tone. "I already love you-you don't need to risk life and limb for that. And that brings me to my second point…"
"Oh God…there's a second point," Joe muttered under his breath, earning a glare from Phyllis and a discretely smothered chuckle form the highly amused salesman.
"Secondly," she continued, "I have no interest whatsoever in motorbikes, no intention of ever riding one, and would work myself into an anxiety attack if you were to take up the hobby."
"You don't like motorbikes?"
"No, I do not," she said firmly, "something you'd have known in two seconds if you'd ever brought the subject up in any context prior to today."
"Oh."
"Buy a motorbike if you feel you must, Joe, but I'm never getting on the back of it. You could be the reincarnation of Mike Hailwood and you wouldn't catch my bum on that motorbike seat."
"Who? Who's Mike Hailwood? Some bloke you used to know?" he asked, a tinge of jealousy creeping into his voice.
The salesman broke off admiring Phyllis' bum and muttered something about "best bleedin cyclist i' the whole world, you prat," as Phyllis just stared at Joe and released an almighty sigh.
"And that brings me to my third point…" Joe and the salesman groaned simultaneously. "there's an even bigger problem with motorbikes."
"What else is there?" Joe asked glumly.
"You can't fit them out with a carseat."
"Why would you want to do that?" Joe asked, his eyebrows raised in complete confusion.
"I did say we needed to talk, Joe," Phyllis said as she turned to walk away. "I'll be in the car when you're ready to go."
"Wait…Phyllis? What are you talking ab—?"
Joe suddenly stopped in shock and a huge gasp of air wooshed out of him. The salesman sighed and stepped closer to pat Joe on the arm.
"So…would you be wanting to look at minivans today, sir?" he asked as Joe leaned heavily against the motorbike and stared at Phyllis as she strode quickly to the car without a glance back.
"Did she really say 'carseat'?"