I was telling Shaun on our way home from dinner that I need a faster car. He told me that I wasn’t getting one until I learned to take care of the one that I currently have. What is he? The car police? I LOVE my car. I keep it clean and immaculately tidy. The only issue I have is with hitting things. But like I told him, they’re called bumpers for a reason.
He disagreed with me. He told me that bumpers are designed as they are so that if you hit a pedestrian the bumper will flex enough so that the car isn’t damaged and the pedestrian will bounce off. What the hell? He just made that up.
Shaun then proclaimed that my problem is the fact that I don’t pay enough attention. I disagreed. He said that you don’t take out emergency stairwells when you’re paying attention. I don’t think that’s the problem at all. The problem is that I am a bad judge of distance. Most of the time I know that the thing I’m about to hit is there, I just don’t realise quite how there it is. The only time I’ve ever hit anything at pace was the time I reversed back and smacked my wheel on a pole at full speed. That bent the stick thing that holds the wheel on. It was bad, but highly entertaining at the same time.
The reason I decided that I needed a faster car is because I have an obsession with beating people across the intersection when the lights change. I don’t drive ridiculously fast the rest of the time, it’s just at the lights. I was sitting there, riding my clutch, ready to go. The car beside me turned left. I felt cheated. Then Shaun told me that the other guy could have smoked me anyway, he had an A6. So now I need a faster car.
By this time in the trip we had reached the roundabout just by where we live. It’s a huge intersection with 5 contributing roads – all of them main ones. I have lived near it for most of my life. It isn’t in the least bit daunting for me. One thing that annoys the hell out of me though is people that don’t know how to indicate at roundabouts. You are supposed to indicate in towards the roundabout until you are between the street you are going to turn into and the one previous, at which stage you start indicating out. Easy. But nooooo… Shaun disagrees. He says you indicate out the whole time. How the hell does that work? I never picked him to be one of the idiots! Well, not in the car. 😉
Anyway, all this car talk was going on while I was driving us home from dinner. I was the designated driver. The designation came about by our usual ballot system. We both go out and start drinking as fast as possible and then say to the other “You’ll have to drive, I’ve drunk too much”. Last night I got stuck talking and Shaun got in first. Speaking of firsts, I think that’s the first time it’s ever happened. So I drove. And when I got sick of arguing about driving I told him that if he wants me to drive then the new rule is that he isn’t allowed to talk.
I might actually make him sit in the back next time.