there was this one time, when i was learning to drive, that my dad decided (b/c my mom was too nervous to ride with me and teach me how to drive) that i was ready to go through town. now this was after we purchased my first car, a chevy sprint (ironic since i work for sprint, no?) and it was a small bucket of death that would surely tumble over in medium wind. but the important point is that it was a manual, yes, stick shift, i know how to drive them. the current car i have now it the first automatic transmission i've had, and i absolutely hate it. anyway, there's a lot a first time driver has to adjust to when learning the rules of the road, such as correcting the path without over-correcting, being mindful of the other drivers and signals and lights and the such.

so at this particular point, i've done well enough, still nervous though, and me and my old man are sitting at a traffic light. now to explain something to you at first, manual's usually idle at about roughly 1000 RPMS or so (i could be wrong), anything below that could cause the car to stall (die) and be completely embarassing in traffic. my special little death cab did not idle at this area, instead, i had to rev the engine to make sure it stayed alive. not to mention how touchy the clutch was before my dad gave it once or twice through with his mechanical prowess. so i also had that working against me.

needless to say, when the light turned green, myself and my car held up the flow of traffic. but it was easily corrected, and i restarted the car and went on my way, which honestly covered the span of half a minute, if that. now during this time, as soon as i didn't move or flitch at the first pop of the green light, a mustang behind me blew it's horn. and this of course, pressed my nerves harder, since my palms were already oceans of uncertainty. my dad let out a sigh and set, "Don't worry about them, I've got it."

i started the car, the engine turns over, and all's fine. but during this time, my dad, the randomly street enraged guerilla he can be, clammers toward the back window. and i couldn't think what for. so as the engine clanks and (well, what i have no better turn for) purrs, i looke back to see what my father's doing, and the old man's showing the girl in the mustang a rigged, threatening finger. i smiled to myself (because, let's face it. that dumb bitch did deserve it), and he sinks back into his seat. pressing the shitty shocks of the car.

the mustang follows us into a parking lot, while my dad's still brewing over the whole incedent. and parks far off from us (apparently ms. mustang and me and my dad were all going to the same place). and he looks like he's gonna accompany his finger with a few words. which, is kinda scary, b/c my old man can get pretty intimidating. but he doesn't say anything, and probably for the best b/c i'm sure the bird tweeted all she really needed to know. it didn't stop him from talking about how much of a cunt she was, and how i shouldn't worry about it. (not that he really used the word cunt).

so there's a random story.
i miss the asshole sometimes when i stop to think about it, and i hate that i'm not more like him.