Driving-wise, I am most comfortable not doing it. I don’t like it and have made not driving a big part of my life–it’s one of the main reasons I ever came to NYC. If forced to drive, I will do everything possible to make sure I’m driving a small car. Small cars don’t make me any more comfortable, but they do help reassure me that when I get into an accident because I’m not paying attention, there will be less damage done because the surface area of the vehicle is smaller.
Luckily, this SUV was what my sister calls a “woman’s SUV.” Meaning, I guess, that no self-respecting male would be caught driving such a small, sleek version of what is supposed to be a big, bulky monster of a car. I’m not usually in favor of products that specify genders (although they can lead to some hilarious reviews), but in this case, I’m glad I was driving a vehicle meant for girls. Especially because the rearview mirror had mysteriously disappeared.
As you can tell because you are reading this post, I made it okay (in case you were wondering, if I die, I will not bother updating this blog). It was a thoroughly non-monumental experience. And yet, I feel like I grew up a little bit this weekend. Next time I’m forced to drive, I will still choose the smallest car possible, but at least if forced to drive an SUV, I’ll know I can do it.
Who are all of these people forcing me to drive all the time? I don’t know. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.