So, we went out to dinner for my dads birthday….I did not have fun. I asked my mom if I could drive because I thought we were going to the cute little French cafe by the movie theatre. It’s literally three minutes from my house. So I drove there. And it was all good. But that place was closed early because of Easter. Someone was too lazy to check their timings before we left
Anyway, we decided to go to some nasty Indian restaurant instead. It sucked, but that’s not the point. The point is, this restaurant was in the opposite direction. So I had to drive an extra ten minutes and I had no idea where I was going.
And if you have desi parents, you know that they’re backseat drivers. So there i am, minding my own business, and i think I’m doing pretty well, so I turned on the radio. What does my dad say? “Array! Awaz bundh karo! It’s distracting you!”
It wasn’t. I think he just doesn’t appreciate Will.i.am. Feat. Britney Spears like I do. So what does he do about it? Scream and shout. (See what I did there? XD) so between all this yelling and screaming, I somehow managed to run a red light. I was coming to a stop because the light was yellow, and all of the sudden my dad yells “GO!” So what do I do? I go. And then I stop in the middle of the road because half my brain is telling me that my dad is wrong and I should stop before the light changes, and the other half of my brain is telling me to listen before I get yelled at even more.
And all of my brain is telling me I suck at driving. And mind you, I haven’t driven in months. Somehow, whenever i want to drive, its always when the entire family is sitting in the car and feels like yelling at me. And thanks to the joys of Pavlovian classical conditioning, I get anxiety every time I get behind the wheel. Which is partly the reason why I still haven’t taken the driving test yet. Yes, I am a senior in high school and I don’t have a driver’s license. I blame my parents.
At some point I ended up passing the restaurant we were going to, so I had to make a u-turn. But I’m not good at making a u-turn. So instead my mom told me to turn into some apartment complex and just go back around. Well, I tried that. It didn’t work. To make a long story short, the three “fantastic drivers” in the passenger seats were giving me some “friendly tips” all at the same time…and then I almost crashed into the car into a building and we almost died. But we didn’t and we’re all alive (Alhamdulillah).
In other news: I have one day of spring break left and I didn’t do any of my homework yet. And I only left my house twice in 8 days.
Moral of the Story: The stereotypes are true. Brown girls can’t drive.