“Sometimes the truth can be
I was walking toward his bike before I even knew what I was doing…other than putting one foot in front of the other..and managing somehow not to trip and fall down.
Then he revved his bike’s engine…the sound was like a siren call.
“Sure…” I said, with not one single, intelligent thought floating around in my brain.
(And…I might add…whose voice was that coming out of my mouth? Certainly not my voice. My voice was perky and bouncy…one could even describe it as sprightly.)
This voice sounded like I had been drinking whiskey for the past twelve hours…during and after my job as a piano-bar singer in a smoke-filled nightblub while I was still recovering from laryngitis.
“What about your friend?” he asked and raised up his head in question…indicating, of course, friend Franny.
“What?” I said. (There was that strange voice again). I had a friend?
But then a sharp poke in my side quickly brought me back to reality.
“Oh, right!” I yelped. I turned to look at Franny who had left the curb and was now standing right next to me.
We whispered out a quick deal. We would both get on the bikes, go for a ride and then later I would go into The Friendly Inn with her. I would not quibble at all…not one quibble.
She knew that “Roger”…the guy she was really hoping to see tonight…wouldn’t be showing up until much later.
So, for her it was really a win-win situation…especially since the other biker…who had now also taken off his sunglasses…was also drop-dead good looking. That was a plus.
And…the deal was done.
“We can only be gone for a couple of hours,” Franny said to nobody in particular…because nobody in particular was listening.
“We’re meeting some people later at The Friendly.”
Then she walked over to “Biker # 2”.