Driving Lessons

Mama Kat's Writers Workshop had a prompt today that was sooooo easy.

If you want to participate, click the pretty poodle button. It's fun!



I started scratching notes but the memory was coming so fast, it was just easier to actually start writing.

"DESCRIBE THE FIRST DATE YOU WENT ON IN A BOY'S CAR."

I'm not sure this was the very first date, but Mick was the first guy I dated that had a car.

It was a BIG car, and not at all cool. It was a funky vomit color - something between brown and tan with a little bit of green thrown in.

I was fifteen. And he was taking me to a dance club known for letting the "under aged" in.

I got out the Aquanet.

The jean skirt that barely covered my butt.

Red pumps.

And every bit of make up I owned.

I headed over to my girlfriend's house. Her parents were never home so no grown up was going to see the final product before I got to the club.

I got myself all dolled up with a look that said, "You should take my money and let me in to this club because I look like I could be at least 18 so checking my ID isn't necessary."

In retrospect, it was probably more of a look that said, "You need to pay me by the hour if you want the pleasure of my company."

You know my mom's heart is stopping right now.

Sorry Mom. I love you! I'll go mow your lawn now. Oh, wait, that was a different time I totally disappointed you. *Hugs*

So Mick picked me up and drove out to no-man's-land.

We pulled into the gravel parking lot and I could hear, "Boom, boom, lacka-lacka-lacka, boom. Boom, boom, lacka-lacka, boom-boom," coming from the building.

I sashayed to the door like I belonged there and got in just fine.

Not so much for Mick. He had such a baby face and couldn't convince them he was 21 even after he pulled out his fake ID.

He was such a nice guy, he said I could go in with out him for a bit. Some friends of his were just pulling up and he was going to chat with them for a while.

As tempting as it was (Come on, Walk the Dinosaur was playing!), I'm a nice girl. So I stayed outside with him.

When his friends found out Mick couldn't get in, they decided to leave. Mick & I sat on the back bumper talking for a bit, and I got an AWESOME idea!

Mick should teach me how to drive!

Never mind I was barely fifteen, had no learner's permit, and had never been behind the wheel of a car before.

Again, being a nice guy (and I think he really liked me and thought this may clinch a kiss at the end of the night), he agreed.

I started the car with a roar because I stepped on the gas while was doing it. I SWEAR, that's what my parents did.

The car wouldn't move out of park unless the brake was pressed - that was a good thing.

Once the car was in drive, I pulled out of the parking space. Thank the Lord, he had backed in.

Of course, there was quite a bit of gravel kicking up because I didn't know the power of a gas pedal. I'm sure the hussy getting out of the car next to me appreciated the parking lot dust coating her zebra print stretch skirt. She thought she was HOT. *sizzle*

Seriously though, I don't think she found all the pieces of gravel that got caught in the rats nest on her head until she took a shower in the morning. Once something penetrates the Aquanet helmet, there is no getting it out without screwing up the entire do. Extraction has to wait until you're ready for the shower to turn your hair into the inevitable melty, gooey mess that requires you to wash, rinse, & repeat more than twice.

Once we get to the driveway of the parking lot, I had the sense to stop and look for cars. And take a moment to ask how to turn on the headlights.

There were a lot of headlights on that state highway. But no street lights.

It was D-A-R-K!

Mick told me to go. But it wasn't a gentle, "It's clear so you can go now."

It was a "IT'S CLEAR! GO! GO! GO!"

I squealed, hit the gas, while turning onto the highway.

The car fish-tailed.

I screamed.

The car lost a hub cap.

And I lost my driving privileges.

Silver Lining:

1. Mick and I dated for several more months and he even let me get behind the wheel again, but only during the day. On really straight streets. With no other cars in sight.


2. Two years later, my dad "officially" taught me to drive so I could get my driver's license before we moved to "The Big City". While I'm sure I gave him a couple of scares, I passed my driver's test with flying colors. The DMV Tester Guy even said, "You are very relaxed behind the wheel." He didn't know I'd been driving for almost two years. Until he reads this, I'm not sure my dad knew that either. Sorry Dad. I love you! *Hugs*

Wardrobe Malfunction

Have you ever put your underwear on backwards?

Now that's just plain uncomfortable. Although, it could be akin to wearing a thong that's just way to large.

Unless you already wear a thong. Would you even notice?

I'm not a thong wearer so I don't know these things. And trust me, I'm not going out to buy a thong, just to find out if it's uncomfortable when put on backwards. And since I have no thong wearing experience, and I have put up a wall on the possibility of becoming one who wears thongs, I'm not sure I would be a good judge. Either way, correct or backward, a thong is going to be uncomfortable for me.

Speaking of clothing and being uncomfortable, I was at the mall this weekend and saw:

• a man, who had to be at least 70, wearing "skinny" jeans and those black sneakers with the really flat bottoms, a la Jonas Brothers. All he needed was a jacket three sizes too big with his sleeves rolled up a cuff or two and the creep-o-meter would have blown into the ultra-red zone.
  
  Who dressed him, his twelve year old grand daughter?



• a woman with shoulder pads in her suit. Not just shoulder pads, I mean SHOULDER PADS!
  
  Eighties style.
  
  Everything else about her seemed normal, except her head. Without the huge hair (to balance out the SHOULDER PADS), her head looked really tiny - almost shrunken.



• a woman with a belt around her waist.
  
  Her "waist" appeared seven or eight months pregnant.
  
  Having been pregnant myself, I know for a fact that as soon as my belly was large enough for maternity clothes, the belts were relegated to the back of the closet. The last thing I wanted to do was restrict my movement anymore than what that baby was already doing.
  
  I don't care what the fashion of the day is, belts on pregnant women is never going to be part of it. So my guess is that this woman was not pregnant and simply in denial as to where her real waist was.
  
  I'm no fashionista and I'm not skinny, but I know belts do not look good going down around the small of my back and up to the top of my belly just under my boobs.



• a woman in the mall wearing a full length fur coat with a black leather vest over the top of it.
  
  Was it a real fur? Probably not.
  
  I wasn't at the type of mall where women wear such things. What kind of mall would that be? I'm not sure women who wear real fur coats are the mall type at all.
  
  Anywho, I was uncomfortable because I couldn't help staring at her.
  
  It was like a train wreck.
  
  It was like someone wearing a thong swim suit without "landscaping" first. Weird!

Silver Lining:

1. I'm not a thong wearing kind of gal. Otherwise, you might be reading a blog by "Flossy" instead of "Pollyanna".


2. No one busted me for snickering at them. No one except for God of course. Yes, I'm doomed, but sometimes I just can't help being a total catty, snob.