The following is
not true, but simply provided for your entertainment -
______________________________________________________________
My wife slapped me in face - hard! Problem was, I had no idea why. All right ... maybe I did.
It all started earlier in the evening. I was riding back home on my scooter, Fall night, cool weather, 9:00 pm with clouds threatening rain in about an hour. That's when I saw her pulled over to the side of the road, hood up on a new import. Her hips stuck out in jeans the color of the night, with a pale face illuminated by her headlights. Her platinum blonde hair practically glowed.
Blondes. They always seem to get me into trouble, but I pull over anyway.
There's some trepidation on her face as she watches me swing off the bike until I remove my full face helmet. I guess my face said I was the trusting type and she relaxed her defenses. I'm a tall Black guy, 6' 1", and clean shaven -- hey, it's the age of Obama. I'm rewarded with a beaming smile. She's cute and certainly doesn't need all the make-up she's wearing, but I see she's close to tears and I can only imagine how worse she'd look once her mascara begins to run, or the coming rain hits her.
The car's a complete loss. The engine had seized up and there was no way it was going to start. Worse, none of us can get any bars on our cells so I offer to give her a ride to a service station about five miles down the road.
Her trepidation returns, but I promise to drive slow. She relents, especially when I insist she wear my helmet. After a few quick passenger instructions we're on our way and arrive at the station about ten minutes later (hey, I said I'd go slow). I hang around enough to make sure she's helped and on her way back with the tow truck driver.
She thanks me again, shaking my hand like it's pump and hands back my helmet. I watch her go. Maybe blondes aren't so much trouble after all. I strap on my helmet, jump on my bike and make it back home twenty minutes later, just barely beating the rain.
My wife greets me, relieved that I'm safe since I'm unusually late. I decide not to mention the blonde and chalk it up to traffic with a shrug. That's when I removed my helmet and she looks at me in open shock.
She slapped me in the face - hard. I touched my cheek, feeling a stinging redness as she marched upstairs to bed. Looks like I was sleeping on the couch tonight. Damn.
Wish I knew why?
_______________________
Not the greatest mystery, but anyone know why our rider got slapped?
