Like Raymond, I consider myself "an excellent driver." I have a 5-speed compact car with cruise control. I use my seat belt reflexively. I curb my speed; I don't like to drive fast. I'm conscientious about turn signals and mirrors. I'm cheap about gas, trying to find a way to coast in neutral and keep the rpms as low as possible. I don't tailgate, slam the gas on green lights, or lane hop.
I eat, drink, look at maps while I drive. In the past, I have smoked and even read behind the wheel on long stretches of interstate. I read Kitty Kelley's biography of Frank Sinatra while sunny Kansas rolled beneath my wheels. I have been GGG behind the wheel, but only as passenger. I have misbehaved behind the wheel.
I have blown bubbles. I have cried and screamed and pounded the wheel. I have sung loud with the radio, or without. I have talked back to the radio. I have felt my foot pressing the gas harder as a particularly thrilling passage plays on the CD.
I have driven under the influence. More than once. Extremely grateful to have arrived home safely each time.
I am neither a bad driver nor a perfect one. Always room for improvement.
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