November 10, 2009

I can’t believe I’m admitting this.  It’s just so embarrassing.

*deep breath*

Here it goes:

I’m a bad driver.

Like, a really bad driver.  Like, so bad that one of my friends insists on driving almost half hour out of his way to pick me up when it’s raining because he thinks I’m a hazard to society and he doesn’t want Seattle to lose one of its recently acquired advanced dancers.

*Hanging my head in shame*

My Arizona license plate has been working as the perfect excuse… however, that’s not going to last must longer.  People from Arizona are among the worst drivers I have ever seen.  Red light runners, the shitty slow bastards in the left lane, aggressive assholes that’ll run you over without looking back, and just flat-out stupidity curse every road in Tucson.  If it was a rarity, well, it’d just be annoying, but it’s not.  That’s the norm there.  So it’s just… well, scary reality.

In Tucson, I was among the elite drivers- the ones who knew how to check their blind spot before changing lanes.  The person who used their turn signal.  You know, the one who obeyed the rules of the road, knew every street in town, and managed to drive for over a decade without ever so much as a speeding ticket.

And then I moved to Seattle, where the majority of the drivers make Arizona drivers look like special ed crack-whores ten times worse than I thought possible. Which wouldn’t be so bad if it didn’t make me look like such a crappy driver.

When I say “crappy”, I mean I’m the moron driving on the wrong side of the street with an open beer screaming, “Hey ya’ll!  I’m from them thar place called Tucson,” out the window.  I am that driver.

The one who misses every damn exit on her way to a new place.  The idiot who’s driving the white line because the rain is too thick to see where one lane begins and the next one ends.  The one that screams every time she has to drive up a freaking steep hill and can’t find parking downtown to save her life.  The one that doesn’t even know how to use a fucking pay meter.  The one that RAN A RED LIGHT by accident last night.  The driver that calls local friends half-crying, “Okay… so I’m lost… HELP ME!… what do you mean what streets am I near? I don’t freaking know!  I’m lost!“.  You know, THAT DAMN DRIVER.

I am so embarrassed to admit it, but I can’t just go on pretending I’m an amazing driver with an incredible sense of direction anymore.

Seattle, I am so, so sorry.  Tucson is missing one of its idiot drivers, and you happened to be the unlucky city that got stuck with her.

At least I can parallel park like no one’s business, right?  Does that at least sort of make up for the fact that I’M A SHITTY DRIVER?

Current Mood: Alarmed

Last night a friend visiting from Canada told me I’m a “Yummy Mummy”.

It had something to do with wearing tight jeans and a cute shirt while dancing at a badass blues bar downtown.

Is it wrong that it felt really great to be told that?

Current Mood: Cool