Fuck. Nothing? Seriously? Just a tiny bit of cash, please! Nope. Zero Euro available. I'm sure that damn ATM machine was snickering inside.
I suddenly sensed her behind me again. It was like a slight tickling at the back of my head. She was pretty. We had flirted a bit when I came in, when I still felt confident. I was relaxed and just about to draw a bit of cash. No big deal. The world looked good.
Suddenly, my disastrous financial situation came crashing down on me. The world changed from being nice and welcoming to threatening in an instant. I felt insecure. The flirty woman behind me would certainly notice if I left without getting any money. I seriously didn't know what to do. If I just left the machine without getting any cash, it would be embarrassing. No, wait, I could have come to the ATM just to check my balance and transactions. Just to do something, I did that. Shoes? She spent 39 Euro on shoes when we were poorer than most self-respecting dogs?
I snatched my card from the slot, turned around and tried to smile at her. I tried to look relaxed and confident and I felt like I failed completely. Damn, her smile was different. This wasn't flirting anymore, this was mocking, right? I pulled my gaze away from her and more or less fled the bank towards my old trusty motorbike. Yeah, trusty it was, but it had one major flaw. The fuel tank was about as dry as the inner-Sahara at noon. In the middle of a bad drought. Which almost seemed desirable, compared to this shitty and cold German winter day, stuck in the city and lacking two important things. Cash and fuel. Without those two, my bike was a useless burden.
Okay, the engine had still run when I rolled onto the parking lot. A few fuel molecules must still be in there. I could just try to drive home. 17 kilometers. Easy. Except that when, not if, I ran out of fuel, I'd be stuck somewhere in the middle of nowhere and I'd have to leave my old BMW there, which was unacceptable. Even if I got home by some miracle, I'd have no way to get back to refuel my bike.
Okay, the bus. I checked the cash I still had. Three Euros and a few Cents. That would be enough for one trip, but how would I get back here? Sighing, I locked my bike and went to the bus station. Laura, damn you. You're going to have some explaining to do.
What followed was the ultimate disgrace. A grown man in a biker outfit, complete with cool black helmet, standing in a bus full of giggling school-kids. My black leather sure made a nice contrast to my bright red face. Some of the little bastards were kind enough record the scene for posterity with their damn mobile phones. Thank you so much, kids. I tried to look as if I didn't care and gave them a thumbs up, but the little bastards laughed condescendingly. I had always wanted to have kids eventually, but this made me reconsider.
After what felt like five hours of that bus setting new low speed records, I could flee the fucking thing and storm into our apartment. I was about to explode and planned to do exactly that. In a perverse way, I was even looking forward to it. Laura was just about to greet me, looking pleased that I was home, until she saw my expression.
"Lucas, what's..." she started.
"Shoes?" I more or less screamed, my voice breaking in a very unmanly way.
She just looked at me and nodded calmly, acting as if she had done nothing wrong. As if following the primary female instinct of buying shoes was the right thing to do in our desperate situation. It was absurd.
"Shoes, yes. I needed them and they were on sale..."
"This is such a cliché," I interrupted her. "Shoes? Right now? You know what kind of trouble that got me into? I ran out of fuel. My bike is still in the city. I had to ride here on the bus." I was still shouting; her calmness started to annoy me even more than those damn shoes.
"Oh, my poor darling," she replied. "The bus? That's terrible. No one should have to take the bus. Except me, every day, of course, as I don't have the luxury of my own vehicle."
That took the wind out of my sails a bit. Damn, I had started to enjoy being the wronged party.
I didn't want to lose my momentum, but the only comeback I could think of was a rather lame "You know that that bike is my only indulgence..."
This time she interrupted me. "Oh, I'm soooo terribly sorry. Of course, I should have walked in the old pair of shoes, which were falling apart so badly that not all the parts were even on the same continent anymore. At least they were well ventilated, which is always handy when it's freezing cold out there. The five kilometers I walk every day don't really require a decent pair of shoes. What's important is that you don't have to walk at all."
Damn, I really needed a good comeback now. "You probably have many..."
"One."
"What?"
"One pair. I own one pair of winter shoes. They were the tattered one that I just replaced."
Fuck. There was only one thing left to say.
"I'm sorry. I was thinking only of myself."
"Again."
We hadn't been married very long, and I wasn't doing a very good job of thinking 'we' instead of 'me.' She was doing much better, I had to admit.
"You're right. I'm sorry." I thought a moment. "Can I see them?"
"See what?"
"Your new shoes."
"Of course." She looked expectantly at me.
"What?"
"They are down there, on my feet," she pointed out with a smile.
"Oh."
I don't know much about shoes, but tried to pretend I did as I knelt and looked at Laura's purchase. I snuck a glance at her face, and she was obviously eager for my approval. Fortunately for our marriage, Laura never carried a grudge. This was important, as I was subject to this kind of brain fart every now and then.
"They look warm and sturdy," I stated, as if I knew what I was talking about. "Are they comfortable?"
Well, that opened the floodgates. She went on and on about where she found the shoes, how she happened to go into that particular store, how she dickered with the salesman. She was obviously proud of herself, and I had to admit she had every right to be.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you earlier. You really did great getting those shoes, and I should have complimented you instead of getting mad."
Besides, 39 Euro for winter shoes wasn't bad at all, now that I thought about it.
"Come here, Lucas. You're lucky I love you so much." I knew that she was right.
Later, we fully made up with some fantastic sex. It always was red hot with her. I had my share of women before her, but the sex with them just couldn't measure up. I sensed that it was the same way for her, mainly because she had told me so about a thousand times. As important as the sex was, it was not what our relationship was about. She was my soul-mate, my best friend, the only one I could really rely on in a hostile world.
Wherever we went, people envied us, or maybe even hated us. We were that couple, you know? Everyone just knew we belonged together because no one else was good-looking enough. What they didn't know was that Laura was an absolute sweetheart. She was kind and loving, and made our shitty little apartment into a home. She was taking a business degree in addition to her full-time job waiting tables, because she recognized that neither of us knew how to handle money, and one of us should learn. She had dreams for us: someday we would have our own car shop. I would do the car stuff and she would handle the money and the business end. Me? I worked on cars at a garage in the city. I was good at my job, and my boss knew it, but somehow, that didn't get me any more money.
