Yesterday, I had an epiphany as I was trying to get to the Best Buy in the Inner Harbor. Well, 1 epiphany, 1 just organization of thoughts.
Epiphany: I hate Best Buy.
Organization of thoughts: I'm a passive driver
Trying to park in the Inner Harbor is a nightmare. It's the cool-kid tourist zone, so everything funnels into overpriced parking garages that I try to avoid whenever possible. So I circled, and circled, and circled, looking for street parking that wouldn't leave my car without a window or stereo system. No luck.
But as I sucked it up and shelled out the $7 for an hour, I realized that it wasn't just today that left me high and dry. It's all the time. I'm not the girl who guns it up at a changing light, or crosses 3 lanes at the last minute to make an exit. I only speed on straighaways with more than 2 lanes, and have never to date honked at another driver unless my literal life was in danger from being squished up against a median (and that was only that one time).
Especially on Baltimore's less-than-ideal roadways, this leaves me in quite the predicament. Around here, it's speed up/swerve lanes/avoid turn signals/ignore yellow lights, or die. Well I guess not die, but be considered a serious pansy and embarrasment to the state of Maryland. But I don't care. I would rather be the person whose passengers say "really, is my grandma driving this car?" than the one with who they grip their seats in terror. And I'm ok with that.
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1 comment:
and as a passenger, i'd prefer feeling slight annoyance at passive driving than feeling like I have no control over certain death. So, joy, I would like to tell you that I feel safe when you drive, and that's a compliment.
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