American Tricycle.

Cast:
Me, Girl Classmate "Jhoy" and Boy Classmate "Juan".

Venue: Juan's snazzy car.

Set-up:
Juan driving, Jhoy at shotgun, me at the back, strapped in for safety, of course.


The story:

For the past few weeks, I had been able to clock out-of-school time with my peers. We met for two Saturdays at the Local bookstore cafe, and on one Friday at the house of one of my classmates. Granted, we were able to socialize and 'hang' at those times, but the predominant agendum for the day was "clearly" to study. Therefore, it was decided that after the test, the whole lot of us would go out and enjoy some well-deserved, good-juju food. To get to the place, however, and to save up on gas, we decided to carpool. We split up into several groups, and each of us designated a driver to take us to where-ever. In our car was me, Juan and Jhoy (ew wrong grammar). And, since Jhoy was the rose among the thorns, so to speak, she was granted dibs on the shotgun seat.

Now, let me say this first and foremost: I am willing, and have actually exerted effort into becoming more-or-less close to each of my classmates. Additionally, I came to expect that they would be doing the same. What happened next, however, was nothing short of awkward.

We started out with a conversation that was level enough. Jhoy was talking school, and Juan and I listened like the good gentlemen that we were. But then, she grew tired of talking (haha, what a pre-emptive strike of my bitterness), and asked Juan to play music. Lo and behold, Juan and Jhoy turned out to be mutual fans of genre I don't particularly like (i refuse to admit my shortcomings). Not that I minded; I have forever known my taste in music to be eccentric, if not eclectic, and it's nowhere near a surprise for me to not know what other people liked so much, and vice versa. As was expected, the two of them ended up singing Duet (or Trio?) with whoever was on the radio. Start awkwardness::

Juan complimented Jhoy on her singing. Fair enough, she had a decent voice. But then he started verbally-tickling her, handing her compliment after compliment which made her "squirm" in "supposed" discomfort. It wasn't even about the music anymore- it became her smartness, her go-get-'em attitude, her... well... her. And Jhoy reciprocated appropriately, complimenting him on his voice as well (which was quite smooth, I must admit) etc. etc.

I was, quite obviously, the third wheel. The two were getting quite comfortable, and I didn't dare upset the vibe. I just sat back at my seat quietly, pretending to bob my head along with the song, and tried my best to keep my laughs inward while I watched the two blatantly flirt.


As with any two potential-lovebirds, the two were completely unaware of the saccharine molasses that they were presently spewing, ruining the entire "cool bachelor man-whore" aura of Juan's car. The upholstry was sticky and stained, and, reportedly, cost upwards of 500$ to get changed.

I jest.

Nonetheless, it was left up to me to laugh and mock and snap them out of their prematurely conceived love-sparks.


Of course I didn't do that. Seriously, who do you think I am?

Point is, that's what I would've more than willingly done back then. I have something against instantaneously formed flirtations, especially those formed over a mutual love for [a particular genre i don't like] music (I can just hear Jewel's 'Last Dance Rodeo' playing). If anything, flirtations should be worked over for a long while, and should be swathed in awkwardness and laughably pathetic advancements. Not serendipitous dialogues while ignoring the small asian kid in the back seat.


It made me so uncomfortable, to the point of wanting to sink into the leather seats at the back of the car. I had to formulate an escape plan. And I knew just the thing. I spewed out a sentence, any sentence, just to force myself into the scene


Me:"Blah blah blah"
Juan: "Pacificism, blahblahblah"
Me:" blah blah blah"
Juan: "blah blah blah"

This catapulted me straight into the shared spotlight of the conversation. The topic was changed, and the crisis was averted.

It's not exactly my fault I'm not a fan of childhood frivolous romance.. right?


But alas, fate would kick me in the ass. Jhoy said something tangential about the topic I introduced. Juan picked up the cue, and they resumed their meiopic conversations of lip-licking-flirtations.

Karma's a bitch, and there's a reason, after all, why tricycles aren't apparent in the American Freeways. Next time, I'm riding with somebody else.