Good Driver, Bad Driving
If you ask anyone who’s ever been in a car while I was driving, they’ll probably tell you I’m a terrible driver - a statement with which I disagree. I am a good driver, however, I do tend to drive badly. The difference is thinner than my patience when someone doesn’t get the rules of a game, but it is there.
After numerous expensive hours of driving lessons and one failed test, I finally got my driver’s license in the spring of 2022. A few weeks later, I experienced the most hectic and dangerous ride of my - so far - very short driver’s life. My roommate, her friend, and I had to drive to Britany, a few hours away from Paris. We were going to help my roommate’s mom, who was hosting a festival. We borrowed an old car from her family, and left Paris around 6 pm. We agreed that my roommate would drive the first half and I the second one, as her friend didn’t have a driver’s license.
After almost an hour of stagnating in the crowded Parisian roads, someone honked at us violently. We looked up, ready to start an argument with whoever was rude enough to honk at us, and saw this man pointing at one of our back tires. I stepped out of the car to see what he was pointing at. We had a flat tire. It was a Sunday night on a vacation break, meaning that our chances of finding an open car garage were thinner than the difference between me being a good driver and my bad driving. My roommate and I were quite in favour of driving with a flat tire - after all, it was only a four-hour ride. However, her friend was absolutely against it and wasn’t ready to negotiate his position.
After screening through the whole internet and calling multiple places, we found one car garage that would take care of our tire. It was just outside of Paris, slightly sketchy from the outside, and would only accept cash payment. As it was probably the only garage open in the area, we were obviously not the only ones going there. We had a good hour of waiting time before they took care of us. We bought snacks and cigarettes, took a stroll in the city, and called my roommate’s mom who didn’t seem to be worried a bit.
An hour and a half later and three hundred euros slipped into our saver’s greasy hand later, we were on our way again. Windows down and loud music on, cigarette in one hand and wheel in the other, that was the perfect ride so far. We stopped at a gas station on the freeway to get some dinner at a famous place I shall not name - all I’ll say is that it was McDelicious. Fed and happy, my roommate and I switched our seats, and I took the wheel. By then it was almost 10 pm, and it was pretty dark outside. I slowly came out of the parking spot, and inserted myself in the freeway very hectically and with a lot of gasping coming from the back of the car: my roommate’s friend did not seem to trust my driving skills.
After a few minutes, something seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out what. I asked my roommate if she felt the same, and suddenly she told me, “You need to turn on the car’s lights!”. Despite fidgeting every button like a man trying to find a woman’s clitoris, nothing worked. My roommate tried as well, until we realised that the lights were simply broken. It was now completely dark outside, we were on the freeway, and the person driving - I - had just gotten her driver’s license 1 week ago. It was extremely dangerous, but for some reason, my roommate and I were laughing our guts out, while her friend was praying and imploring every holly god he knew that we would make it alive. It was so dark and most parts of the road were not lit that at some point we even tried to illuminate the road with an iPhone’s flashlight. A little tip for if you ever face this situation: it doesn’t work. I decided to drive slowly - at least as slowly as I could on a freeway - and to hope that we would make it alive.
After several hours of nearly-death experiences and multiple hysterical laughs, we arrived. It was 1 in the morning instead of the planned 10 pm. The friend seemed slightly traumatized, my roommate and I still talk about this day as one of the funniest days of our lives. Moral of the story: I may not be the best driver, but I can guarantee you will make it out alive after a ride in my car…