First Look

"Don't forget Mike," emphasised Zeta as she got out of the driver's
side and Mike got
in. Zeta took his place in the passenger side. "Mirror - signal -
manoeuvre. Get into
the habit of looking through the rear view mirror before you set
off."

"Why, Zeta?" Mike, eager to get cracking, gripped the steering wheel,
gyrating his torso as if a kid playing with its toy.

"Because you'll fail your driving test if you don't," stressed Zeta.
"Constantly checking your rear view mirror to see what's behind you is
most important when driving."

"Naw," said Mike like a devil emerging behind a wheel, "there'll be
nobody behind me once I get going - cos I'll leave 'em standing."

Zeta took a deep sigh and slumped back in her seat. Mike's idea of
using a mirror is when he wants to check to see if he's still as
handsome as ever - or a hair out of place - he's so vain. She was
giving her boyfriend his first driving lesson. Paying an instructor was
out of the question, because, after cohabiting for five years, they
were saving up to get married. Zeta was beginning to have second
thoughts about that, too. Mike's so immature.

Zeta mustered her patience. "Okay, ready. What's the first thing we do
before setting off, Michael?" Zeta always called him Michael when she
talked down to him.

"Fire the engine up and foot down!" He grabbed the ignition key.

"No!" shouted Zeta through her teeth, trying not to scream in case it
attracted passing pedestrians. "Something you do before that."

He looked at her gone out. "What's more important than putting your
foot to the floor, Zeta?"

Zeta heaved another sigh and folded her arms, seething. "Oh, you're a
waste of space, lad. A skateboard would suit you!"

"What's eating you, lass?" he huffed. "Men aren't like women, you know,
everything by the book."

Good job their not, thought Zeta. Be an unorganised world if women were
like men. She decided to try again, using diplomacy this time. "Now
look Mike, love, see reason. I didn't make the rules - the Transport
Department did. And you have to stick to them. Do what you like after
you've passed their test."

He shrugged. "Why take a test, then - if I can change the rules?"

God forbid. "Well, it's fine, so long as you don't kill innocent
pedestrians or other drivers."

He looked at her, giving her the dead eye. "You're pulling my plonker,
aren't you, Zeta?"

"No," she laughed. "That comes on the back seat, later,"

"Ah," he jested. "Now you've brought sex into it - sex is a good
example."

She lost her guffaw. If his kind of sex is an example to go by, he'll
make a rotten driver. She decided to humour him. "And how does Michael
make that out?"

"Well," he lectured, suddenly an intellectual. "Why waste time on
foreplay before sex? Why not just bang away. And it's the same with
driving, my lovely Zeta. Why waste time looking through a mirror
instead of getting into the stream of traffic and belting on?"

Zeta couldn't believe her ears. "That's absurd!"
Mike was quite please with his self imposed analysis on the subject.
"And there's one important thing you've overlooked with this mirror
lark."

Zeta yawned, felt boredom creeping in. "Oh, do tell, Mr Know
all."

He breathed hot hair on the mirror and started to clean it with a
tissue. "Well, I'll tell you, my love. When one looks through a rear
view mirror one takes his eyes of the road for a few seconds -
Right?"

"Right!"

"Well," said Mike, now talking down to Zeta. "During those vital few
seconds one could get a dirty big Mercedes up his arse - Eh? Think
about it, Zeta."

Astounded by this useless piece of information, Zeta ogled him
meticulously polishing the windscreen glass. Boy, if only this wiz-kid
was as eager to dabble in housework at home. Mike was happy to sit back
and let her do everything. He's bound to make a bad driver, she
thought. Make his head swell when he passes his driving test. They say
a car is an extension of a man's ego, or something like that.

With Mike it would be an extension of a road hog. "Shall we try again,
lover?" she asked, still using the softly-softly approach. She knows
how to soften him up after five years. He carried on cleaning, ignoring
her. "The first thing you do, before setting off is adjust your rear
view mirror so you'll to have clear vision of what's behind."

He made a quick, analysing glance up at her. "Obsessed with bleeding
mirrors, aren't you girl?"

Zeta lost her composure again. "Ooh, you've some need to talk, mate."
She realised she was getting nowhere with that attitude. Tact,
remember. "Mike, love, what's the first thing you do every afternoon
when you get our of bed?"

She waited patiently, raising her brows in anticipation when she
thought he might come up with the right answer. He shrugged, uncertain.
"Go to the john?"

"Yes, Mike, but what do you do first before...?"
He shot her a smirk. "You on about something sexy again?"

"Noooo..."

Now he lost his temper and screamed. "Well bloody hell tell me
then."

And she lost hers. "You look in the flaming mirror first."

Now they both sat back, sulking, neither determined to give in. A
female traffic warden strolled up to the car, pen and pad at the ready.
She was a big, gruesome wench guaranteed to terrify any zealous
motorist. And Mike was a zealous motorist.

She gestured for him to wind down the window. "Excuse me sir." This
show of initial pleasantness was to prepare you for the unpleasantness
to come. "Do you know you've occupied this parking bay for a hour
without placing money in the meter? You're nicked."

The meter maid could have cut the atmosphere in that car with her
ballpoint pen. Mike studied her in silence as she filled out a ticket.
Bet if this ugly bat looked through a mirror she'd smash it.

He smiled sarcastically when she handed him the ticket. Jerked his
thumb at Zeta, she looking straight ahead, stiff as a board. The meter
maid stuck the ticket on the outside windscreen and moved on to the
next car. She had serious work to do, no time to get mixed up in a
family feud.

A smile flickered across Zeta's lips. "Congratulations, Mike - your
first motoring offence - without moving an inch. And all because you
were too stubborn to obey protocol and use the damn rear view
mirror."

Cheekily he asked. "Can I drive it home, love?"

"No!" She was adamant. "I drove it here - and now I'm going to drive it
back. Move over."

She stormed out of the passenger seat. He hesitated vacating the
driver's seat. She took his place. He took her place. In a fowl mood
she sped off from the curb crashing the gears. Hooters blasted out all
around them.

"No road sense, you Zeta," teased Mike. "Should have checked your rear
view mirror before setting off."

THE END