"Well, uh -- " you say. 

"You know, I already have a boyfriend," she says.  "He's so sweet and caring, I could never cheat on him.  I hope you understand." 

"Well, I, uh -- " 

"Here he comes now." 

Her boyfriend arrives, astride a motorcycle wearing a leather jacket.  How the motorcycle got into the leather jacket, I'll never know.  No, seriously, you know what I mean. 

What -- you don't know what I mean? 

Okay, let me say it again, more carefully this time:  He was astride the motorcycle and he was wearing a leather jacket. 

What, huh?  You want to know what was the motorcycle wearing? 

I don't know -- it doesn't matter!  It's not wearing anything, okay! 

No, I'm not upset that she's going with that guy -- she's not my girlfriend, either! 

Let's talk about the story, okay? 

"Hey baby," her boyfriend says, spitting on the ground. 

"Oh, Rocky," she says, climbing on the bike and clutching his sides.  "Where were you?  You said you were going to come right back and rescue me." 

"Yeah, well, I got tied up talking with this other chick I'm seeing.  I told you about that.  Hey, you got any money?" 

"Of course, Rocky.  I'm a princess, remember." 

"Like you don't remind me ten times a day." 

They leave, pushing the motorcycle (gasoline hasn't been yada yada yada). 

You shake your head, and go chase after the monster. 

You roll your eyes, and decide to go back and fight another monster.