Driving Miss Lazy

Last summer, I made an amazing solitary road trip. Maybe not so amazing for other people, but it was epic for me, because I don't like to drive. Oh, sure - give me a short jaunt on a sunny day with a scarcity of other cars around me, but extreme drives are just not in my "steering-wheelhouse." (Yes, I took great pleasure in that turn of phrase. Much more pleasure than I take in driving.) I'm also kind of a ticket magnet. I have lots of photos of my various cars through the years, front and back view, courtesy of my local government.

So, back to my journey: I traveled from Maryland to St. Petersburg, Florida and back, stopping along the way to visit friends and one set of relatives: about 2700 miles in total. I was dreading it, because I don't love my own company that much. But I did it, serenaded by some of my favorite singers, and getting rather familiar with Michael Bublé, though I think that liaison meant more to me than him.

And once again, as I always do when I drive more than an hour, I reveled in my favorite fantasy: if I ever win the lottery, or inherit a fortune (or make one), I want a driver! I want to sit in the back and do anything that doesn't require following directions or paying attention or keeping my car from running into other cars. I want to pull up to other people who are being chauffeured around, and ask them to pass the Grey Poupon - but first I'll make sure they're at least my age or older so they know what I mean, and we can laugh and laugh while our drivers roll their eyes at each other.

I’m not going to be selfish about my driver, either. If you ever need to go anywhere, my driver and I will be happy to take you. I’ll even make you a ham sandwich with fancy mustard for the ride.

© 2014 A Bit of Brie/Anitabrie