Avoiding Mr Right by Anita Heiss Page A

from the stop.'
    'No arguments from me, Imelda.'
    We jaywalked across the road and I spotted a cyclist
coming towards us. He was grinning and slowing down, as
if to say 'hello'. He went to tip his helmet like a man would
do with his hat in the past, in the days of The Sullivans or
something. I giggled like a schoolgirl and he said 'Ladies'
and beamed at us until his wheels got caught in the tram
tracks and he toppled off his bike. I threw my bags at Shelley
and ran over to him.
    'Are you okay?' I felt responsible for the spill.
    'That'll teach me to perve on a beautiful woman, won't it?'
    'I guess so – where is the bitch?' We both laughed as I
helped him to his feet.
    'Thanks, my name's Allen, and you're Rachel Berger,
right?'
    'Actually no, I'm not. I'm Peta, and I'm avoiding men,
Mr Allen, so if you'll excuse me.' I walked off and just left
him there in his tight, tight bike shorts with his grazed
knee and no doubt bruised ego. I hailed a cab and dragged
Shelley in.
    'You're an idiot, Peta. The man just falls off his bike for
you on a main road in the middle of the day, and you can't
even tell him your name.'
    'He actually fell off his bike for Rachel Berger, not
me. And even if it were for me, I didn't see the point in
continuing any conversation. How long do you think I'll
be celibate if I give my name and number to every cute guy
I meet in Melbourne? They're fucken everywhere, like a
bogong moth plague, except sexier and tastier.'
    'You're an idiot.'
    'Would you like to go somewhere, or did you just jump
in for the aircon, ladies?' the driver said, winking at us both
hot and sweaty in the back seat. We hadn't told him where
we were going.
    'St Kilda, thank you. Eildon Road,' Shelley said, slightly
exasperated. All the shopping had worn her out.
    'I'm not an idiot,' I said in a low voice, 'I'm just in control
of my life for the first time in years, maybe ever. And I'm
not here to play with men, Shelley, remember, and I need
to be faithful to James. We haven't actually broken up. So
technically, I shouldn't be flirting with other men anyway.
And if I were, they'd have to do something more outrageous
than fall off their bike for me. Like step in front of a tram
or something.'
    'You're an idiot and a bitch,' she joked, and shoved some
of her shopping bags into my lap.
    'Yes I am. Thank you very much.'
    The taxi driver started to laugh.
    'What's so funny?' Shelley asked him with a giggle.
    'You young girls are funny. Whatever happened to a man
just being a hopeless romantic, soft and sensitive?'
    'Romantic, soft and sensitive is good. We like that. We
also like clowns on bikes,' I said.
    'So, if I was soft and sensitive and romantic, and showed
up at the door with flowers, you'd go out with me?' he said,
looking at me in the rear-view mirror. Shelley pinched me
on the thigh.
    'Well, I have soft and sensitive at home, and he can be a
clown too. But it's about more than that, isn't it? It's about
shared values and dreams and—'
    'Just here on the left thanks, driver. I'll get it, Rachel,'
Shelley said, giving me the eye to get out of the cab, and so
I did.
    ♥
    Shelley had Skype installed on her computer – along with
every other program known to mankind – and showed me
how to set up my own account. I knew Dannie was on it
regularly because it was free and her kids could talk to their
friends and grandparents as often as they wanted to, so I
thought I'd try Skyping her first.
    'Hey, this is so cool,' I said as I watched Dannie on the
screen trying to talk to me and shooing away her kids at the
same time.
    'Yes, much better than just talking on the phone, but as
you can see I have absolutely no privacy whatsoever with
this set-up. How's it going your end?'
    'All great. Love my house, look . . . ' and I turned the
computer screen around the room so Dannie could see
how lovely and homely it was. Shelley was on the couch
and just waved. 'That's Shelley, my landlady, I'm