I don’t know how to drive. I’ve haven’t even bothered to learn. As a result, I get chauffeured around like the rich and famous do, sans the tricked out Bentley.
Before you judge me, this is why I’ve never learned to drive:
A) I live in NYC, and whilst we have a functioning (albeit barely) subway system snaking its way through the veins of this city I figure, why bother? The 4, 5, and 6 trains take me anywhere I need to go.
B) I truly honestly believe driving is one of those things I will be really, really bad at.
Why? Oh, a plethora of reasons.
Road rage… I’ve got passenger rage, known to yell expletives at idiots on the road, who are either too slow, too fast, or are just plain… Ugh! I’m guessing my rage will exacerbate 10 fold once I become the chick behind the wheel. I was saving my windmill skills for the zombie apocalypse, but driving might just change that.
I believe the car ends at the wheel, never taking into account the windshield, bumper, fender and front wheels… I’m going to get into like a million fender benders, I just know it. Then the road rage will kick in, things might get out of hand, and I might have to test my windmill skillz – Bottom line… I won’t make it in prison.
They don’t bake good cookies there – Plus I’m used to the creature comforts of freedom, such as Dark and Lovely hair, and a steady variety of outfits and shoes. I will never make it. And what if the warden finds out I bake, and I’m stuck in a Shawshank Redemption situation? These are things I have to make every effort to avoid.
Last but not least…
I have NO sense of direction. NONE! I’m one of those people who should really consider walking around with a GPS and a compass. I get lost walking; I don’t pay attention to signs. I mean, I worked somewhere for 6 months, and couldn’t tell you where anything was situated. In fact, I worked right across the street from a place called New Roc City. I even had lunch with my co-workers there once a week – And when asked if I knew where New Roc City was, I said no. And I swear… I didn’t know! There were signs everywhere; I walked past them every single day.
I’m a menace to society. If I drive, I may end up in one of the plain states – And until I make friends out in Nebraska, I don’t feel it’s safe to end up thousands of miles from home where triple A or the local state troopers will have to guide an extremely hysterical Mrs. M.O.B. home. They don’t make enough tranquilizers for that.
For now, my learner’s permit is only good for the now rapidly dwindling times I get carded.
Do you think I’d fare better with a motorcycle? Ok, not a motorcycle, per say – But a Vespa. Can I join a motorcycle gang with a Vespa? I want to look bad ass. If I ride with a bunch of Harley driving motorcycle gangsters I can look bad ass.
Is it because I’m driving a Vespa, and not a Harley? Vespas can be bad ass. I can be the leader of my own motorcycle gang.
Is it because I have no real sense of direction? I suppose that is a crucial trait when leading a motorcycle gang, huh? A leader needs to guide her gang somewhere other than rural Wisconsin, or in concentric circles.
OK, I can dig it…
Here’s some cream cheese pound cake, which has absolutely nothing to do with Vespas, driving, or looking badass in a motorcycle jacket. Cake is something I’m terribly good at. We have a connection, cake and I. Cake and me… Both of us…
This pound cake has all the things that make life worth living; butter, sugar, flour, eggs. We can build a society around these things. We could… We should. No windshield wipers or dead insect carcasses involved.
This baby’s got cream cheese, orange zest and vanilla bean paste in it. It’s almost, a little bit, kind of like winning the lottery in your mouth. Jackpot!
Have you ever tasted a creamsicle? Well, this is what this pound cake tastes like, except you chew it. You’re chewing a creamsicle. A moist creamsicle – And holy moly is this moist – Moist like a mother******! Peep this crumb…
And I baked it in mini loaf pans… Just because I wanted to give some away, but you can be greedy and use a regular loaf pan. No worries…
I’ll leave you to drool on this, and to thank your lucky stars I’ve decided to hold off hitting the roads as the driver of any vehicle, other than my bicycle for a while longer.
Trust… You’re still safe.