Easy As Falling Off A Bike part 17

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Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad.
part 17.

(This is a second version, my computer ate the first one! F**king stupid Machine!).

I stood watching the face in the mirror, it was mine, I knew that but with the new hairstyle it felt so different. It was definitely a girl looking back at me, transfixing me with some sort of spell.

I gazed at her features, somehow although familiar, they didn't seem to be mine any longer, they were now those of Cathy, my sort of alter ego. It's easy to say, you are really the opposite sex inside, but difficult to prove. Suddenly, it seemed the reverse was happening, I could have problems proving I'm still physically male apart from one particular place.

My girlish features which had got me into such trouble at school and occasionally since, seemed emphasised by the haircut, my large eyes and small retrousse nose all seemed even more girly. Was Cathy now the real me and the person I was before now my alter ego, the imaginary character? I was fearful and at the same time fascinated.

I might have problems going back to uni looking like this, even in the cheap shapeless clothes I tended to wear. I would just look like a girl wearing cheap shapeless clothes. The hair cut had made an amazing difference to me, I would never have believed it possible, but the evidence was there in front of me. Okay, it was night time and I was very tired and stressed and I needed to see things in daylight after a good night's sleep. I consoled myself with that thought, although I knew I was kidding myself.

I imagined the university telling me to stop messing about and dress properly as a girl. However, I knew that with all the anti-discrimination laws, they couldn't tell me any such thing. I could wear what I liked as long as it didn't endanger my health or offend anyone else. But it would have been nice to say I was wearing these clothes because I had to. Then I thought again, no it wouldn't be nice at all, I should wear them only because I chose to do so and for no other reason.

I nodded at my image in the mirror, she agreed with me despite the fact that I was wearing these clothes because I had to, my own had been damaged. I hadn't chosen them, but the way they fitted and felt, I might have done given the chance. Yeah, I could live with that and my image nodded her agreement again. She and I got on so well together!

"Come on Snow White," one of the dwarfs had obviously shown up, in the form of Stella, "the repair man is at the car." I followed her out across the car park, our heels clicking loudly despite the diesel engine of the AA van rumbling away. The flashing amber lights had a stroboscopic effect, making the car park seem like a dance floor, the images jumping about before my eyes.

Simon was stood beside the car, his precious Volvo, his face set in a worried look. From the under the bonnet, I could hear another voice emerging. "I think I'm going to have to relay you home, can't tow an automatic."

"What's wrong with it?"

"Starter motor looks burned out," said the voice from under the bonnet.

"But it's only two months old," Simon raised his hand to his forehead, "It's ridiculous!" he exclaimed clenching his fist.

"Don't get the quality of build these days," offered the voice, "See all sorts of expensive cars breaking down through cheap parts or poor manufacture, even had an Aston last week."

"What an Aston Martin?" said Simon in disbelief.

"Yeah, they're machines, they breakdown just like any other."

"So what would you recommend, for reliability?" asked Simon.

"A bicycle," said the voice. I knew at once this man was one of uncommon taste and ability.

"Got one in the boot, doesn't go either." Simon seemed to enjoy disagreeing with the man.

"Let's see," the voice said as a figure in overalls emerged from the front of the Volvo. He was at the boot and opened it before I got to the car and my pride and joy. "Oh, very nice, carbon fibre, light as a feather. Oh dear what happened to the wheel?"

"My sister," answered Simon, "the bike is her friend's, she bashed the wheel."

"A nice ladies' bike," said the man examining it.

"How can you tell?" Simon seemed to be intent on learning some arcane knowledge about sexing bikes.

"Shorter top bar, but it also says, 'built for women' on it."

"Does it?" Simon seemed surprised by this revelation, so was I. I built the machine around the frame and I'd never seen it there.

"Nah, only joking," said the man, "reckon I'd better call up a relay wagon." So saying he went off to his van.

"Hello my lovelies," he said to Stella and me as he passed us, "sorry can't fix it tonight, gonna have to relay you."

"Why don't you leave it here for the garage and we'll get a taxi home."

"Sounds good to me," Simon agreed looking at me.

"I don't mind," I had to accept the majority verdict.

"Make your mind up," called the man," relay will be at least an hour."

"Taxi?" Simon looked at Stella who nodded and then to me, what else could I do.

"What about my bike?" I suddenly realised it would stay with the car and be taken to the garage with it.

"I'll ask them to be gentle with it," Simon said smiling at me.

I had imagined him killing me, if anything happened to my bike, I would swing for him, of that I was sure. In fact, I'd probably kill them both!

So there we were waiting in the pub car park waiting for the taxi to arrive, Simon and Stella standing close to each other while I harboured very unpleasant thoughts about the future of each of them. I made sure the car was locked and strutted around it, watching the disappearing lights of the AA van as it went down the road.

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Comments

Get another bike!

Gee, Simon should get a folding bike to keep in his trunk. Of course, might be a bit perilous for three. Cathy seems to be getting her feet back under her; no violence please. After all, what prison would they put her in?

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way."

College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

Aha! A Chance For Escape!

So here we are, about to get into a taxi. A taxi, with a driver who can go anywhere in the area and drop people off. A taxi which goes from location to location, all day and night long. That's what they do, you know. A taxi that would conceivably be quite happy to drop Cathy home and then take Stella and Simon back to theirs, for the extra fare of course.

So, what clever way will our mischievous author come up with to force Cathy to go home with Stella and Simon against her will?

But who is paying?

Last person out of the cab pays the fare, that would be Simon and Stella. That means Simon will see where Cathy lives. Come the morrow there's a knock on the door. . . .

Karen J.

"Being a girl is wonderful and to torture someone into that would be like the exact opposite of what it's like. I don’t know how anyone could act that way."

College Girl - poetheather


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin

At last

A chance for Cathy to catch her breath. I would say take the cab and escape while the going is good. If there is a knock at the door come tomorrow, that's why they have locks. Hmmm... except Simon could hold her precious bike for ransom. In exchange for a date maybe?
Great romantic comedy here!
Hugs!
grover

A nice, but strange start

The way this started, I had to go back and make sure I hadn't missed an episode or three. it sounded as if maybe Cathy had just left a salon.

As for getting out of Simon's way soon, not a snowball's chance ...

Holly

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

(This is a second version

Diesel Driver's picture

(This is a second version, my computer ate the first one! F**king stupid Machine!).

Just be glad there are such things as computers. Imagine having to type this all by hand on a typewriter or heaven forbid, like they did before, with ink and quill.

Chris

I can't imagine

Aljan Darkmoon's picture

typing anything with ink and a quill…

tow car

On my side of the pond we have AAA, American Automobile Assn. AA is alkaholics anonimous