Monday, June 15, 2009

For the record, this doesn't make me a bad driver

It hurts my feelings when people say I am a bad driver. My husband says I’m a bad driver. My dad says I am a bad driver too. To them I say, don’t judge me until you have sustained some sort of trauma due to my driving. AND My car is spotless inside, which makes me a good driver.

I am not a bad driver, I just have problems paying attention. Hello? Who wants to “concentrate on driving” – you just sit there and bop your foot a little and spin your hands on the circle. AND how boring is THE ROAD when you can be thinking about Chinese food and vacations and work and money and friends and weekends and cupcakes and dresses and smooching on your husband and all of the things you would say to your boss if the world were free of consequence and puppies and dragons and movies and rainbows and everything else in the world that is funner than THE ROAD...oh and looking at your eye.

About three weeks ago I was leaving my subdivision on my way to work. Same drive – every day. I was slowing my car at a stop sign and decided to look at my eye. I had done some fancy drawing with the eyeliner that morning and wanted to admire my handwork in the rear view. I swear on hot dogs I looked at my eye in the effing mirror for ONE SECOND and then BOOM BOOM POW. There I was two right tires up on the curb sliding into the stop sign. BREAAAAAK. CRAP.

First I backed that car up off the curb and then looked around to see if anyone was questioning my sobriety. Nope, clear.

THEN, I got out and looked at my car.

Hmm. Looks fine to me. I don’t even have to tell hubs about this one. Bonus!

Fast forward another week.

Husband: Your car is pulling like crazy what’s wrong with it?

Me:...well…I ramped it a little last week. But it was fine.

Husband: How do you ramp it...a little?

Me: Ooopsy. My tire looks flat.

Husband: It looks like you shredded the inside of the tire wall –what the hell were you doing?

Me: My car was on the curb… like…a lot.

Husband: How many of your tires were on the curb?

Me: Two. But they were both on the same side.

Husband: You managed to get only the right side of your car up on a curb? How fast were you going?

Me: Not sure, slow. I think.

Saving Grace: ROAD HAZARD TIRE WARRANTY.

Cost me $12 to replace a $150 tire. Well, and $50 + tax for alignment.

Sears Auto employee: What did you do with this car? The alignment was JACKED.

Husband: My wife drives this car.

Sears Auto employee: I take it you want the Road Hazard warranty on the new tire too?

Husband: Yes. Like I said, my WIFE drives this car.

If a chick ramps half her car up on a curb at 9 o'clock in the morning and no one is watching - she's still a good driver.

6 comments:

ohioana said...

We may never see eye to eye on Reese's pieces, but I'm with you on this one. My husband harped on my driving for years. My brother occasionally does too, and it makes me want to cry. Especially since Kent's driving makes me want to scream things like "The gas is on the right, pal!" He's a much bigger frustration on the road than I am, and I haven't hit anything/one for years...

Tam said...

Jeremy NEVER remembers which side the gas tank is on.

Jennie! said...

I've also been accused of being a bad driver, mostly because I am easily distracted as well. But I think we're both good drivers, EFF YOU, HUSBANDS.

Just kidding, Jeremy, I heart you.

Mermanda said...

God help me if I ever drive like my mother. What a looney toon on wheels!

Heidi said...

I thought of you Friday. Picture this. I'm driving my family through the drive-thru at Wright-Patt Credit Union and as we're leaving CRUNCH. I totally curbed the right back side of my car up on the divider between the two lanes. No damage, but you were immediately in my head. Dear god, please don't let my tire go flat. Thank you

Tam said...

I think this is a misogynistic plot against us all!!

M - my mom is a HORRIBLE driver. She gets pulled over all the time for not going the speed limit.

Heidi - you ramped it? Good thing you didn't scrape off the bottom of your car. Ugh, banks are the worst!