Meet Whitey

I seriously hate to drive. My latest story should demonstrate how bad I do.

I was glad that I had student status here, and a valid excuse not to have a car. After all, I do not have here the social status I had back home. Then again, I also don't have a job.

I have strayed from the topic, but here is when I get back on. I hated driving the bus. This was nothing like Denver. The people riding the bus are mostly (how to say it nicely?)... sketchy. I got tired of being hit on by men with golden teeth, excessive facial hair or with the potential to be my third-generation ancestor. So I decided to stop eating and save enough money to buy a car. Any piece of junk would do, as long as it kept me away from bus stops.

And so I did. I bought a car 2 months ago. But when did I actually drive it for the first time? You'd say "Duh! 2 months ago, obviously!". I say no, keep guessing. "1 month?", you say. Nope, go on. "2 weeks?" as you raise your eyebrows. And I finally answer, Nope. I just drove it for the first time 4 days ago, after I had run out of every conceivable excuse I could come up with. I will not elaborate; they were valid excuses, but none that would ordinarily make my determination falter.

Don't get me wrong, I love the freedom to move around that an automobile provides. However, why can't it drive itself? I wonder if Kit from "Knight Rider" would consider being my car if I promised to give him a more manly name. In the meantime, I just contemplate the possibility of ever having enough money to have a cute car, and an even cuter driver to take me wherever I want to go.