The stories we tell- Non-driving edition

Everyone has those stories. You know the ones I mean, the ones where we were young/stupid/drunk/etc. The ones where we look back as grownups and cringe. The stories that we should really keep to ourselves, but for some reason we’re compelled to tell. Here are a couple of mine. And I’m dragging my friend Melissa into them, because you can’t be friends with someone for almost thirty years without sharing many of “those” stories.

My best friend Melissa and I are not bad drivers, I promise. But when we were learning to drive, there were a lot of “non-driving” moments.

Like the time she got her car stuck on one of the raised lane dividers in the Kroger parking lot. My dad was with us and he hilariously tried to lift the car up off the divider. Our hero 🙂

Or the time we came out out of Walgreens and got into the wrong car. I noticed my seat covers were gone and got mad because I thought someone had stolen them. I won’t even tell you how long it took us to figure out we were in someone else’s black Camero.

Her car was acting funny one time and she got out to check under the hood. She was giving me instructions, and said “Don’t hit the gas”. But all I heard was “Hit the gas”, and almost ran her over.

Then there was that one time when I made a very bad left turn and ended up driving partway up someone’s front steps. I freaked out so bad that I made her switch seats with me and drive us off the steps and back home. Sadly, that was not the only time we had to do the switcheroo because one of us got into something we couldn’t get out of…

I swear we were never under the influence when any of these things happened. I think we just brought out the bad driver in each other!

I’m linking up with the Document Life Workshop.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s