So *Blignaut, who this masterful Opel now belongs to, pulls into a BP garage and stops – turning to *Rift and *P-Bug and saying with a sly grin “I think its time she learns to drive”. This absolutely ridiculous suggestion was greeted with two nods and giggles – none of which came from my frozen face of horror.
Within seconds they were out of the car, pulling me from the back seat and plonking me in the driver’s seat (which didn’t take much effort despite my pleas for mercy and my spider-monkey attempt to push my entire body off the car.) And suddenly there I was – holding onto a steering wheel for the first time ever, looking directly onto the petrol pump and picturing the painful fiery death sure to come. *Rift and *Blignaut were excitedly talking together trying to explain how to pull off.
It was time…
Following *Rift’s EXACT hand-gesture directions I did the clutch / accelerator thing so fast that it resulted in the longest, most impressive wheelspin of all time, stretching out for metres. All that could be heard in City Deep on that still night was the sound of screeching rubber, drowned out only by the sound of four young terrified screams.
The petrol pump got closer, the Attendant’s eyes got wider….
I slammed on the brakes so hard that *P-Bug’s face smashed into the back of my seat causing a blood nose.
Three lit cigarettes could not have appeared faster in front of my face if I were naked.
Those are the friendships that never fade. The ones which completely yank you out of your shell and shock the shit out of you to force you to experience new things.
And despite the fact that it took me YEARS (no exaggeration) to get behind the wheel of a car again – this is one of the memories that I would not exchange for anything.
(* Changed the names, c'mon! Nobody's mothers would be THAT mean!)
PRK