If this is this my dream existence, do I need to move to LA?
So the first day I got my license a million years ago, I wrenched the car keys from my father’s fingers and drove (slowly with hands in the 10 & 2 Position) to my best friend foreva’s house. I honked the Corsica’s horn twice and out she came, in 90’s grunge attire, to go with me on my first jaunt.
But since my parents
knew I was a shyte driver were anal-retentive and over-protective, they said I could only drive Jackie around the block.
Picture it: Bloomfield, NJ circa 1997. Jackie and Christina cruising around and around Beardsley Avenue so we could listen to all of Squeeze’s “Tempted,” a la Reality Bites.
Damnit, that’s a good memory.