I was having my driving lessons and while I've met really nice instructors, I met the most obnoxious one today.
It started out nice (always the case isn't it) and said our hellos. I WAS CHIRPY, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT, CHIRPY. I always look grumpy and have always been told I look way older than I'm supposed to be (supposedly from all the frowning). There's this fact somewhere in the internet universe that says that women talk way more than men. You won't believe how much this man spews out. He was yakking the whole time, exclaiming and screaming at me the whole time in the car - the clutch, the brake, the pedestrian, when to turn left. I was getting increasingly flustered and frustrated because he rattled on and on without stopping. I couldn't even think without him interrupting- so suffocating. It seemed like the only way was to stall the engine every time he opened his mouth, which worked for the first few times but he subsequently started screaming 'THE CLUTCH, I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CLUTCH. HAIYAAAAA!'
At that point of time, the only sane thing I could think of, was to jump out of the car and roll onto the road, you know how those Hollywood movies where Jackie Chan heroically leaps out of the car at fucking 80km/h, not get a single scratch and gets up from the road perfect, without an injury or a hole in his body, just like a beautifully molded wanton. Now that's what you call a bad motherfucker. Thing is, I still had to pay this woman $60 for today's lesson whether I was going to come out like a beautifully molded wanton. I pussy-ed out and attempted to kill his brain cells slowly, telepathically. Didn't work.
I hope I pass my driving soon. Just so I can drive around like a F1 driver and rev my engine like a badass motherfucker. And of course drive my bald boyfriend to and fro from army, just to spend that extra few precious minutes. Sian, I miss my boyfriend. It's time to look for a job.
