Driving Miss Mary

Ha Ha. Let’s laugh for a few minutes.

I have good driving habits, I think. Text messaging, applying makeup, or using my cell phone while driving is prohibited unless it’s urgent. I drive the car and do nothing else except scan the landscape for hawks, vultures, or anything that interests me. Talk radio entertains me in the early morning hours but most of the time I listen to my favorite music stations and sing loudly if my mood is right. Driving the car is my focus and watching for idiots. Idiots make me cuss.

He does other things while driving and that’s why he misses exits.

I always wonder why he waits to fasten his seat belt until he’s making a turn or merging onto an interstate. When he buckles up, we sway a little.

He’ll sightsee, point to road construction, and comment on the new thingamajigs (barriers?) they’ve erected for new lanes. Oh, boy! How interesting. I say, “Hmmm. Just drive the car.”

Will he ever brake for stopped traffic? I do it for him, on my side of the car - feet firmly planted on an imaginary brake pedal. I warn, “They’re stopping, slow down…” Boy, that really sets him off! “My foot’s on the brake, Mare!” I think, “a little too late, mister.”

There’s his ever present energy drink in the cup holder:

Unscrew the cap. Swerve vehicle. Take a small swig.

Screw the cap back on the bottle. Swerve vehicle.

Repeat every two minutes.

He’ll throw his head back for a view of the ceiling to get that last drop from the bottle. I close my eyes to oncoming traffic and hold back from taking that damned bottle and tossing it out the window.

He fidgets with buttons, i.e. oil life, cruise control, Tom-Tom GPS, and checks on the organization of his tidy cockpit. He also remembers to trim his fingernails at stoplights. Fidget, fidget, fidget.

We arrive at the shopping mall and drive aimlessly through its parking lot for ten minutes to find the ultimate pull-through space – one-quarter mile from the mall entrance. I think, “Whatever. It’s only 95 degrees. Let’s jog to the entrance.”

And, this is what makes it a real party. When he’s driving, it’s his choice of entertainment – either Scottish bagpipes, oldies, or static sports talk radio. Aaaaack!

I wholeheartedly admit I’m a terrible passenger. He has suggested I wear a blindfold. Not a bad idea!

By the way, I have always loved roller coasters, especially the wooden racers.

Photo Courtesy of the Internet

There have been a few rides I’ve taken and exited with weak knees and a pounding heart. In my head I was thinking, “Wow. What a ride. GLAD IT’S OVER.”

I didn’t name “him” here but ya’ll know who I’m talkin’ about ;-)