Don and I enjoy hanging out at Home Depot. We each own a house, and at least once a weekend we make a trip to that store and talk about all the things we would like to do. Sometimes we actually buy things and start a project, most times we buy things that have nothing to do with a project. Each trip usually ends with a Coke at McDonald's while we dump our purchases out on the table and discuss, again, the things we would like to do, but probably won't.
Last night's rendezvous in the lumber aisle was uneventful, calm, peaceful, where we met up, showing one another what we were taking home. We laughed, talked, climbed in the truck and set our sights on home.
But the July 12 trip was slated to be more memorable than most.
It was a hot Sunday evening, the humidity was stifling. And something you should know about me...I suffer from motion sickness very easily, especially in those conditions. Carnival rides? Forget it. Boats? Surely you jest! Stressful car rides? Sure to induce nausea.
Of course, I could learn to keep my mouth shut, but Don was driving me crazy. The speed limit was 40 and he was tooling along at about 25. I could see what was about to happen here. We were approaching a green light, and by the time he got to it, it was going to start changing and he was going to slam on the brakes, causing the truck to lurch and my stomach to do the same thing. So I gently said, "Would you speed the f&*) up??"
He did, and when we barely beat the red light found it necessary to say, "You drive like an old woman."
"Wh- what?? I don't either!! Why would you even say something so incredibly stupid and untrue?" I cried out a little defensively.
"It's not untrue. I've noticed it the past few months. You drive like an old lady. You wait until cars that are way back there get past, then you turn."
Okay, ladies, help me out here. That's called "patience." I have it now. Not only that, if there are just two cars and I can wait ten seconds before pulling out, then I don't have to hit the gas to accelerate quickly, which saves gas.
He just doesn't get it. Patience = sanity-keeper = fuel savings. What is WRONG with that?
I just am dreading driving on our summer trip now because I will feel self-conscious when I practice my patient driving skills. If Don would just think back to the time that I had to actually take a stress management class per orders of my physician to learn this patient driving technique, and how to deal with people who criticize my driving skills, he would shut up already!
He wants to ride with me when I am not practicing sane driving? Oh, well, okay...Branson, here we come. Everyone get out of my way! The old lady is coming through!
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