Friday, August 04, 2006
Another Reason Why I Don't Drive
I live in that area on the east side of Manhattan that was having power problems, so yesterday I hopped on a 5:30 PM train and headed out to Le Doug's. My apartment was not only dim, but also a balmy 80 degrees inside. I couldn't deal. Yes, I am weak.
Once at Doug's. I realized I was so hungry I was literally light headed. I'm a little hypoglycemic, so this wasn't a surprise. I needed to eat. if only so that I could think straight. It was hot, though, and I didn't want to cook. I hopped in Doug's car and headed down the road the Chinese place, where I got some chicken and brocoli. It was dusk, but not dark enough to put the headlights on. However, when I came out of the restaurant, night was defintely falling.
I got behind the wheel of the car, started it up and realized something: I didn't know how to turn on the lights. I know this sounds ridiculous to 99% of the population, but you don't understand: I never drive. This sort of thing is not my bag. I started to panic. I looked around the parking lot, hoping there was someone else who could help me. Yes, I was willing to be ridiculed. How on earth could I not know how to turn on a set of headlights? I went to Columbia, for goodness sake.
I tried every buttom and lever on the dashboard, but could find no lights. I did find something that when I pulled it, the headlights came on, but only as long as I pulled it. So I drove the half mile home, one hand on the wheel, the other on this strange, light lever.
I came home very upset, mostly because I felt dumb that I couldn't find the light switch. I told this to Doug, who looked at me like I head six heads. Apparently the switch for the headlights are in the same place in every car. Given that the last car I drove was a Volvo station wagon for a week a year ago, and the car before that was in 1997, I couldn't understand why I should know about where switches and buttons should be in a car. I'm a lover, not a driver.
Anyway, I am not allowed to drive the car at night anymore, because Doug is convinced that I could hurt myself or someone else. He may be onto something.
