I'm kneeling in my driveway next to my bike, changing the fan belt, when a group of schoolgirls walk past me, giggling. Their furtive glances are practically boring into my bare torso. God, I hate it! Can't you get some peace and quiet in this dump? A day without longing looks isn't too much to ask for, is it? I grumble to myself and wipe the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, but in doing so, I end up spreading quite a bit of machine oil on it. Great, and where's the rag now?
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