Listen, if God (who is a woman, by the way) wanted us to operate huge chunks of metal and send them flying at each other at lightning fast speeds then she would’ve just invented the Zords from Power Rangers instead, not cars. I mean she’s clearly already obsessed with dinosaurs considering she made like 3 million of them before the meteor hit, and then after that she sent her only son, Ross Geller, down to educate all of us about their existence. So it all adds up. And also if she really wanted cars here she would’ve made it way more obvious which pedal is the gas and which is the brakes and also she wouldn’t have put so many Paylesses everywhere for us to crash into. This is just basic theology. I can’t believe I even have to explain it.
I was the last of my friends to even have a basic level of interest in driving. And by a basic level I mean that I was interested in the idea of not having to walk anywhere ever again and that was it. I had enough anxiety getting up and remembering that school existed every day, I really didn’t need to add on the possibility of zoning out while driving because I’m trying to remember in which episode of Charmed they had to WWE wrestle a bunch of demons in a ring in order to save the world, and then I end up crashing and dying. (I looked it up, by the way, and the episode is literally called “Wrestling With Demons.” Because of course it is.)
The only reason I ever even let the idea of driving enter my mind was because one night I was out with a group of friends and everyone was being given a chance to try it out in an empty parking lot. They all cheered each other on, but started freaking out when it was going to be my turn which I’m not really sure why because I was only about the third clumsiest person in that car and maybe the second stupidest. Regardless I wasn’t bottom of the ladder. I didn’t end up driving because I felt it was important to teach them a lesson by depriving them of my fantastic driving skills, crossing my arms, and pouting the whole night. It was a total power move.
The next time the opportunity came up I jumped at the chance. This time I was comfortably seated with Isabel and Gulsah, ready to show them, the world, and God herself that I was able to do this. And I did for about two minutes before I forgot which pedal was for the gas and which was for the brakes. It’s honestly so confusing, they should really put a sign up or teach it in some kind of class. Not very responsible, car makers. Anyway, I accidentally floored it Spongebob-style and almost drove straight into a Payless before finally finding the brakes and stopping short. I was mostly just happy we didn’t crash into the Payless because I was Jobless and thus Moneyless so paying them to fix their wall probably would’ve ended up leaving me Homeless.
After that incident I decided my best course of action would be to never step butt into the drivers side of a car ever again. Which meant I had two options: 1) Already be rich and get driven everywhere by a personal driver. (Honestly should’ve gone with that one.) Or 2) Move to the Big Landfill. Sorry, Big Trashfire. AH! Big Apple. Though nobody actually calls it that, we call it The City. The land of too many people, too much trash, and some trash people.
Ryan C. Robert is the writer of multiple comedy blogs, most of which are satirical and self-deprecating. He writes about his life in his personal essay series "Before Color," parodies cooking blogs in "Trish's Dishes" and posts writing prompts every single day.