Traffic Lights

Traffic lights in Saigon always seemed to last a little longer.

I never minded.

Whenever the lights turned red, I would rest one hand gently on her thigh while we waited.

A moment later, I could usually expect a little hug from behind.

Sometimes a quick peck on my shoulder.

And if she was feeling especially cheeky...

A small squeeze on my man-breast.

I would pretend to protest.

She would laugh.

"Hê hê hê..."

Once, after I deliberately braked a little harder than necessary, she bumped into my back.

She looked at me with mock seriousness and declared,

"Your back is going to be bruised because of my large breasts."

I laughed so hard inside my helmet that I nearly forgot the traffic light had turned green.