The September Issue vol.1 chp 8 I like not being able to ride a bicycle...

...but you don't, I told him. What's so wrong about not being able to? I can take public transport, or a cab, or hell, I could walk. Sōsuke was on a crusade. Apparently it was unnatural, unthinkable that I couldn't ride a bike and I needed to learn immediately. I tried to convince him that I was too old and too easily bruised to worry about crap like that. But as I said he was on a crusade and wasn't taking "No!" for an answer. That's what led to me laying flat on my back in pain everywhere except for my ears.

He'd woken me up at 8 am that Saturday and considering I'd gone to bed at 3 am I was not pleased. I was hoping that if I ignored the doorbell long enough he'd get tired and berate me later. So I waited it out and he did leave after about 10 mins so I went back to my fantasy with classic Wentworth. All of a sudden I heard my front door open and my landlord's booming voice. The fucker had gotten my landlord to let him in. I was so incensed I got up without thinking. Two things happened: first, I exposed myself in my panties white, with a pink bow; second, I had a tumble - I suffer from chronic low BP, if I get up too quickly, everything goes black, I loose my balance. And that's just what happened. Luckily I was standing next to the wall so it braced my fall. It took about 15 seconds to clear up and when I could see again, there he was. You couldn't leave it alone could you? He grinned and said that he was worried. An obvious lie. I told my landlord that I was okay. He left and I went to the bathroom. There was no fighting with this idiot today and I was never gonna get my time with Wentworth back.

After I'd gotten dressed and he'd raided my fridge, we headed off to the park. We found a quiet spot on a hill-ish area and he started going through the basics of cycling  ie. peddle, breaks...wheel. I asked for training wheels but he said those were useless. He was on a mission to teach me and there was no stopping him. While he was spewing some crap about Voeckler and Sanchez I found myself wondering how the hell we got hear. I was a shit English teacher as it turned out; the only things I ever manged to get across to him were the swear words, but maybe that was because of my unruly student.

I finally got on and he pushed. It all happened very quickly. He said something about the best way to learn as he did so. I don't know what I replied but I'm pretty sure it wasn't PG-13. I don't remember much else. I'm pretty sure that my mind blocked out the trauma. I never actually passed out or anything but when I heard his footsteps I pretended to. He should be made to feel bad. I was soar, bruised and generally pissed off because of him. I've never in my life seen my melanin-rich skin so bruised. When we got back to my flat and he settled me on the couch, I told him that we were never doing that again. How about training wheels he said. We both smiled. As he got up to leave, I asked if he'd had a good birthday. The best he replied.