Before we got the new car, the future Mr and I were a single car family. One car between two people might not seem like an insurmountable obstacle but the combination of different work schedules, my far superior driving skills and his male ego made me want to go out and buy a new car.
It was his car so you might think I would be content to let him drive. But then you have clearly never seen him drive. He is simply not very good at it. He thinks he should be constantly accelerating up until he has to slam on the brakes. He thinks those lines on the road are for decoration and should be ignored at will. He considers the brake a last resort when the horn is in perfect working condition.
In his defence, my fiancé learnt to drive in Israel. This is not a country known for patient and attentive drivers. Israelis think that people in the road are playing chicken and the speed limit is a dare. Conversely, I began my driving days in a land where grazing gazelles always have the right of way.
I would drive his car more often than not. I felt more comfortable doing it, it got us to work on time and nobody got hurt. But having only one car forced us to alter our schedules. His work schedule has always been more erratic than mine. I do not keep banker’s hours but I know when I will be going to work for the next week. His hours can and do change at the drop of a turban.
A funny little quirk about his job is that people need to know exactly what streets he takes to get there and approximately when he should be where. He downplayed the significance of this when he first explained it to me but it did not take me very long to figure out that it is all about sending out a search party should he not show up on time. If I do not show up for work, they will phone me and wonder where I am. If he does not show up, they will actually send somebody out to look for him. I guess it makes a difference when some people want to kill you. Nobody wants me dead. Aside from the usual wiping us off the map and all.
Not very long ago I was taking David to work and we were running late. I could say that it was an unfortunate series of events that delayed us but in truth the blame lay solely on one person. I shall not say whom. His or her name begins with a consonant and is immediately followed by two vowels. But that is all I will say about that.
Since we were running late, I decided to take a few different roads that should have got us there faster. It was a good plan. Any map and a basic knowledge of local traffic conditions and it all makes perfect sense. However, neither of us took into consideration that people were looking for the wreckage of his bombed and burning car at the same time that I was driving it headlong into those same military police. We were stopped by a patrol surprised to see a woman driving his car. They thought for a second that perhaps he had been kidnapped by a woman. This only embarrassed him and his male ego. Surely he would be able to defend himself from me.
No. I would mess him up.
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3 comments:
I felt my wife was in better shape than me and could probably out-do me in a knife fight but she knows nothing about gadgets with bullets. But I think my two new industrial embroidery machines wiLL get me in shape.
An old friend of mine, Zero was his name and his last name was six letters that began with m and had an s in the middle and ended with an L, advised that the lines on the road were for directions, i.e., if one follows them long enough then the road ends.
This is quite helpful if one is interested in following the road until it ends, but this does not work around the forum in Italy of course.
Nathan Lane?
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