Sabrina adjusted the rear view mirror and reapplied
her lipstick, aware that he was staring at her. At first
the funny-looking little man had made her feel
uncomfortable but lately she'd begun to enjoy the
attention.
She glanced up, realizing he was saying something to
her. "Want me to check the oil or water?," he repeated.
"No, thanks," she answered without looking at him.
He stood there with his hands in his back pockets, not
wanting their brief conversation to end, but knowing he had
nothing of interest to say to her.
Touched by his awkwardness, she smiled at him,
reminded of a high school date who had walked her to the
door then couldn't decide whether or not to kiss her.
Abruptly he turned and removed the nozzel from her gas tank. She watched in the side mirror as he pulled a rag
from his pocket and carefully wiped away any fingerprints
he might have left.
Lying on his matress on the floor, Joe watched
television while waiting for the delivery boy to arrive
with his pizza. He had a freezer full of frozen dinners but
didn't feel like waiting the two hours it took for he
decrepit old oven to heat up.
He thought of Sabrina when a perfume commercial came
on. A handsome man pulled a Sabrina-look-alike into his
arms and twirled her around as they kissed.
He thought of Theresa, who was sort of his girlfriend.
He'd been a virgin till two years before and at nineteen it
was a constant source of embarassment for him. After buying
a second-hand motorcycle, he and his friend, Bob, had taken
off for Tijuana to do something about his condition.
As soon as he saw the scantly clad women beckoning him
over he knew he wouldn't back out. None of the women were
very pretty so he opted for the youngest, maybe 30 or so,
she said her name was Vanessa.
After that he'd gone back alone every few weeks,
always a different bar, always a different girl, always a
different story so his friends wouldn't know where he went
on these weekends.
He thought back to the two times he ever had sex
without paying for it, both times were with Lily, a cashier
at the hardware store where he used to work. The first time
they'd squeezed into the tiny employees' bathroom during
their afternoon break and done it standing up.
The second time they'd gone to her apartment. There
were right in the middle when her boyfriend knocked, or
rather pounded, on the front door. Lily shoved him,
followed by his clothes, out the window. She never did
return his leather jacket he'd left in the living room.
After finishing off the large pizza, he hopped on his
bike and started on the two hour drive to Mexico.
For the last six months he'd been seeing Theresa, who
was seventeen. Joe believed her when she told him she was
only whoring to support her two year old son, Pedro.
In reality, she had no son, but saying so made the men
more generous. She was young and pretty and liked to make
the older girls jealous with the gifts she received from
her American boyfriend.
Joe thought often of marrying Theresa and bringing her
and Pedro to live with him, using the money he'd been
saving for a new motorcycle. The idea of someone waiting
for him when he came home from work appealed to him, but he
was afraid she'd leave as soon as she got to America.
She often told him how handsome he was and that he was
a good lover, but he figured it was because he was a paying
customer. He wanted to trust her, and he wanted to believe
she meant the things she said. And he dwelled on the fact
that none of the other girls had told him those things.
Sabrina walked wearily into her apartment, tossing her
keys onto the kitchen counter. She went into the living
room, crumpling onto the couch, not even bothering to turn
the television or stereo. In the quiet she let her mind
drift to Joe. She'd begun to think of him often - realizing
this the day she'd strained to read his name off his work
shirt.
Lately she's let herself imagine what it would be like
making love with him. She knew it would be wonderful and
kinky. In her fantasies they'd always be watching pornos,
acting out all the scenes.
Something about him evoked in her feelings she'd never
felt before. She wanted to forget her inhibitions and go
wild in his arms.
In all her twenty-eight years she'd never done
anything truly outrageous and unpredictable. When she'd
wanted to travel through Europe with a group of friends
after high school, she'd let her parents talk her into
going straight to college. Even on her own in college,
she'd changed her major to accounting because her boyfriend
thought it was a better choice for her than fashion
merchandising.
She hated her job; working with numbers when she
wanted to be doing something creative. Already she'd
redecorated her apartment three times in the past year just
to feel alive.
Even though she longed for a change, she was surprised
to find herself attracted to a guy who pumped gas. She
imagined all the horrible things people would say, "Look at
the woman with that ugly guy... he must be great in bed,
because he certainly doesn't look rich..."
But Sabrina had stopped thinking of him as ugly. At
first she could not stand it when he would stare at her,
lately she'd begun to think of his looks as interesting.
She'd even gone so far as to rethink her entire philosophy
on beauty; deciding that are people are beautiful, but with
some you have to look for it.
She also rationalized that when the two of them were
just souls floating in the heavens, the flesh that had
previously covered their bodies wouldn't matter. And all
those who had loved one another for looks or money would
find that they never loved one another at all.
"Here comes your girlfriend," called a voice to Joe,
who was wiping dust off his brand new racing bike. With its
bright red color and all the gold-plating it looked fast
just sitting there in the parking lot.
Sabrina noticed Joe and the bike right away. He looked
up at her but continued with his bike. She sat patiently
and watched him, noting how nicely his jeans fit. Finally
he began walking toward her.
"What'll it be?," he asked.
Telling him to fill her tank, she tossed him her keys,
then adjusted the rear view mirror so she could watch him.
"Nice bike," she said as his eyes met hers in the mirror.
"Thanks," he replied and walked up to her window. He
noticed that she was wearing shorts rather than the usual
suit, "Day off?" he asked.
She looked down at her legs and felt uncomfortable
even though her shorts went almost to her knees, "Sort of,"
she answered finally. Then added, "It's so nice out, I
thought I'd go for a drive."
"Yeah, me too," he said, smiling nervously, shifting
he weight from side to side. Sabrina saw for the first time
how white and perfectly straight his teeth were.
"You like bikes?," he asked her suddenly.
"I love them," she answered, "you feel so free, almost
like flying..."
"I'll tell you what," he teased, "even trade - your
car for my bike."
"Oh sure," she laughted, "next you'll try to sell me
the Brooklyn Bridge."
He liked the natural sound of her laugh, unlike other
girls who tried not to laugh too loud. He imagined her
laughter in his ear as she rode behind him on his bike and
wanted to invite her to take a ride with him, but couldn't
get the words out. The pump kicked off and he turned to
remove it, catching sight of one of the mechanics standing
in the garage, giving him thumbs-up.
She took off down the road, feeling the cool wind slap
against her cheeks, trying to remember the last time she'd
been on a motorcycle.
Red
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