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How Men Think...

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Let's say a biker named Bountyman is attracted to a broad named Donna. He asks her out to a movie; she accepts; they have a pretty good time. A few nights later he asks her out to dinner' date=' and again they enjoy themselves. They continue to see each other regularly, and after a while neither one of them is seeing anybody else.


And then, one evening when they're ridin' home, a thought occurs to Donna, and, without really thinking, she says it aloud: "Do you realize that, as of tonight, we've been seeing each other for exactly six months?"


And then there's a silence in the wind. To Donna, it seems like a very loud silence. She thinks to herself: Geez, I wonder if it bothers him that I said that. Maybe he's been feeling confined by our relationship; maybe he thinks I'm trying to push him into some kind of obligation that he doesn't want, or isn't sure of.


And Bounty's thinkin': Six months?! :hmmmm:


And Donna is thinking: But, hey, I'm not so sure I want this kind of relationship, either. Sometimes I wish I had a little more space, so I'd have time to think about whether I really want us to keep going the way we are, moving steadily toward... I mean, where are we going? Are we just going to keep seeing each other at this level of intimacy? Are we heading toward marriage? Toward children? Toward a lifetime together? Am I ready for that level of commitment? Do I really even know this guy?


And Bounty's thinkin': So, that means it was... let's see... August when we started going out, which was right after I put in new clutch discs and a new primary chain, which means...let me check the odometer... Whoa - F#&K! I am [i']way[/i] overdue for a freakin' oil change here.


And Donna is thinking: He's upset. I can see it on his face. Maybe I'm reading this completely wrong. Maybe he wants more from our relationship, more intimacy, more commitment; maybe he has sensed, even before I sensed it, that I was feeling some reservations. Yes, I bet that's it. That's why he's so reluctant to say anything about his own feelings. He's afraid of being rejected.


And Bounty's thinkin': You know, I think I'm gonna up this puppy to a 5-speed. Packin' this chick around just screws up my shift points; gotta wind it out more or there's too much of a lug after shifting. Yeah...I'm gonna do that!


And Donna is thinking: He's angry. And I don't blame him. I'd be angry, too. I feel so guilty, putting him through this, but I can't help the way I feel. I'm just not sure.


And Bounty's thinkin': Might as well drop that tranny sprocket down a tooth, too. And get her a bigger seat while I'm at it. She really puts the groceries away when we're at a restaurant!


And Donna is thinking: Maybe I'm just too idealistic, waiting for a knight to come riding up on his white horse, when I'm sitting behind a perfectly good person, a person I enjoy being with, a person I truly do care about, a person who seems to truly care about me. A person who is in pain because of my self-centered, schoolgirl romantic fantasy.


And Bounty's thinkin': Wonder why that is...you know...chicks just seem to blow up after awhile. Maybe I oughta find one of those chicks that stick their finger down their throat after a hearty meal and save myself the anticipation! On second thought...let's not get ahead of ourselves!


"Bounty!" Donna shouts into his helmet.


"What?" says Bounty, startled.


"Please don't torture yourself like this," she says, her eyes beginning to brim with tears. "Maybe I should never have... Oh God, I feel so..." (She breaks down, sobbing.)


"What?" says Bounty.


"I'm such a fool," Donna sobs. "I mean, I know there's no knight. I really know that. It's silly. There's no knight, and there's no horse."


"There's no horse?" asks Bounty.


"You think I'm a fool, don't you?" Donna says.


"No!" says Bounty, hoping that's the correct answer.


"It's just that... it's that I... I need some time," Donna says.


There's a 15-second pause while Bounty, thinking as fast as he can, tries to come up with a safe response. "Um...okay!" he says.


Donna, deeply moved, hugs herself tight up against Bounty. "Oh, Bountyman, do you really feel that way?" she asks.


"What way?" asks Bounty.


"That way about time," says Donna.


"Oh," says Bounty. "Yes."


Donna leans way around to face him and gazes deeply into his eyes, causing him to become very nervous about what she might say next, especially if it involves a horse. At last she speaks. "Thank you, Bounty," she says.


"Thank you," says Bounty.


Then he takes her home, and she lies on her bed, a conflicted, tortured soul, and weeps until dawn.


When Bounty gets back to his house, he whips up a tall JD & Coke, turns on the TV, and immediately gets into the Winter Olympics. A tiny voice in the far recesses of his mind tells him that something major was going on back there on the bike, but he's pretty sure there is no way he would ever understand what, and so he figures it's better if he doesn't think about it.


The next day Donna will call her closest friend, or perhaps two of them, and they will talk about this situation for hours. In painstaking detail, they will analyze everything she said and everything he said, going over it time and time again, exploring every word, expression, and gesture for nuances of meaning, considering every possible ramification. They will continue to discuss this subject, off and on, for weeks, maybe months, never reaching any definite conclusions, but never getting bored with it, either.


Meanwhile, Bounty, while adjusting the new clutch on his Harley with Fast Eddy, Donna's brother, will look up from the bike, frown, and say, "Hey, Eddy, um...did Donna ever own a horse she rode at night?"




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