About that helmet I dented his bike with, I swung it at him at well. For dancing with the girl, this was! The prick! He was totally intending to incite me and got way more than he bargained for when the bouncers of the bar, took me outside.
He followed me out, laughing, clearly proud of successfully provoking me…but then I got hold of the motorcycle helmet.
“You swung that thing at me. You were trying to hit me with it,” he said.
“No kidding. Did I swing it high, or low? Did I swing it at your head or your…”
I laughed. “Well, I’m sorry about that. Good thing you got out of the way! Good thing you ducked.” This is 28 years later. “But really, I shouldn’t have done that,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem, Els.”
“Really. You were swinging that thing, hard too. You were trying to kill me with it, but we just made up, like always. No matter what happened, we always made up. We went home together that night, it was no big deal.”
He’s right. And I remembered the next morning, I made him some pancakes. I’d dented his bike, see. His prized possession…his motorcycle, so I was a little embarrassed. I was going to make it up to him by being angelic. Because banshee or not, I wanted to keep my boyfriend, right?
“How are those pancakes?” I asked, stupidly. “How’s the sausage? Is it enough? There’s more…”
“Good, Els. This is a great breakfast. Thank you for this excellent breakfast,” he said innocuously.