First date drama

Day 18 —Take a reader behind the wheel with the worst driver you’ve ever known.


Sit where I sit.  Fully upright with my fingers clenched one into the car seat and one hanging onto the grip above the door.  My teeth are grinding.  I am sure if you look at my face it would be white.  Even my toes are clenched within my shoes.  Every part of me is tense.  I am silently praying for my survival, repeating in my head “let me survive and I will trade …”.  There are no limits to what I am offering for my survival.

Sit where Boris sits.  He has driving gloves on at the 10 and 2 position on the steering wheel.  He is leaning forward, hunched over the steering wheel.  His foot is solidly on the accelerator.  Even his left foot with no task appears to be in position to create even greater speed.  His only focus is the road ahead and yet the focus is “off” because he is missing key signs on the road and even actually remaining on his side of the road.

Sit where the pedestrian sits.  He leaps back from the curb as Boris speeds around the corner, pretty much on two wheels.  His ears are blasted by the screech of the tires.  His nose is assaulted by the fumes of the black smoke trailing after our car passes.  I am not sure that he can believe what he is seeing. I look back and can see that he has given Boris a two finger salute.  But they are also talking on their cell phone.  Maybe that is how I will be saved, the pedestrian calling the police and their intervention.

Back to me and I feel able to share what has led to my fear.  Boris is drunk.  I know this now but did not realise when I got in the car with him.  As a consequence he has no limits on the speed he is going.  He fails to obey road signs, most critically the STOP signs.  He is fearless and acts like he owns the road, all of it.  He will not stop and let me out.

I am simply terrified and Boris can comprehend none of that.  He thinks its a great first date and that I am honoured to be with such a charming and charismatic man and driver. I just want to survive the ride home without incident.  No injury to myself or innocent bystanders.  As for Boris, I want to boil him in the alcohol he drank and then repeatedly run him over with his own car.





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