I could argue the point, since he's the one wobbling and I'm not, but he's always been more stubborn than me, and it is his bike, after all. Then he offers to simplify the whole process by giving us one destination instead of two, and I can't deny that it does make things easier.
I've known about, and been more or less at peace with, my condition for long enough that it takes me a few minutes longer, til I've managed to catch us a taxi and we've climbed in, already heading out of the shopping area, to realize that he's only had a couple hours to process the idea. He probably doesn't want to let me out of his sight for the immediate future.
I wish I could promise him that he's got nothing to worry about, but the best I could reasonably say without knowingly lying to him is he's probably got nothing to worry about. And I guess that wouldn't be much comfort if I were in his position, either.
The ride to my apartment is about three kilometers from where we picked up the taxi; it doesn't take long, and the driver wishes 'my friend' a speedy recovery from his drink as I hand over the fare and tug Gotou-chan out of the vehicle. He leans against me as the cabbie sticks his hand out the window with my change. I fold the man's hand over the money, giving him a friendly smile.
"Have a good night, sir."
As for us? The building's a converted house, not that large, and the staircase is external, wooden and relatively sturdy, leading up to my second-floor apartment. It's not very large but it's not very cluttered, either; I don't have many things to make a mess with (though I've done my best with the few possessions I do own).
"Sorry it's not swept up," I mutter, reaching down to untie my shoes on the doorstep. I'm not sure if Gotou-chan's gonna need help with his, but he can lean on my back while I'm bent over at least, so he doesn't fall.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-10-02 10:13 pm (UTC)I've known about, and been more or less at peace with, my condition for long enough that it takes me a few minutes longer, til I've managed to catch us a taxi and we've climbed in, already heading out of the shopping area, to realize that he's only had a couple hours to process the idea. He probably doesn't want to let me out of his sight for the immediate future.
I wish I could promise him that he's got nothing to worry about, but the best I could reasonably say without knowingly lying to him is he's probably got nothing to worry about. And I guess that wouldn't be much comfort if I were in his position, either.
The ride to my apartment is about three kilometers from where we picked up the taxi; it doesn't take long, and the driver wishes 'my friend' a speedy recovery from his drink as I hand over the fare and tug Gotou-chan out of the vehicle. He leans against me as the cabbie sticks his hand out the window with my change. I fold the man's hand over the money, giving him a friendly smile.
"Have a good night, sir."
As for us? The building's a converted house, not that large, and the staircase is external, wooden and relatively sturdy, leading up to my second-floor apartment. It's not very large but it's not very cluttered, either; I don't have many things to make a mess with (though I've done my best with the few possessions I do own).
"Sorry it's not swept up," I mutter, reaching down to untie my shoes on the doorstep. I'm not sure if Gotou-chan's gonna need help with his, but he can lean on my back while I'm bent over at least, so he doesn't fall.