It was time for me to learn to drive a car.
Piece of cake, right?
Piece of cake, right?
Not if like me, you waited until age 21...
There’s just something about all that teen-age bravado, and okay let’s face it – recklessness – that might be an important ingredient in tackling 4000 pounds of metal…
So, my Dad, loving man that he was, decided this would be a healthy father/daughter bonding exercise… After a short trial period he re-thought the concept… Men of a certain age get heart attacks too easily!
Next in-line was my brother. He was certain that he could accomplish what my father could not… Hah! After a particularly short but heart-stopping lesson, he instructed me, in one of those super calm, you- know-you-are-about-die voices, to pull off the road…
The final act of this play was my then boyfriend who was really certain that it was just a lack of some super skill he had and they didn’t that was the problem… Besides he had one of those famous tank-style Volvos that would be impervious to harm…
Yup… Fifteen minutes into this one he gave up, shuddering at the damage I was doing to his precious car…
Did I learn to drive? Yes, indeed! The three men in my life chipped in and bought me driving lessons…
It was a perfect match! The instructor showed up so drunk that nothing bothered him…
And yes, I did get my driver’s license. Piece of cake…
Have any fun driving stories to share?
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