The Pilgrim Congress

I grew up in a city located just outside of Boston.  After high school, I went to college in another major city in Massachusetts.  After college, I got a job in Boston.  Do you know what all of these areas have?  Public transportation!  And sidewalks!  Do you know what that means?  It means, if you are like me and deathly afraid of driving, you can live your life sans driver’s license with very few issues.  Now want to learn a fun fact about me?  I didn’t get my driver’s license until I moved to New Hampshire a little over a year and a half ago.  Another fun fact?  I’m a fucking horrible driver.

Within a week of getting my license, I hit a UPS truck.  A parked UPS truck.  A gigantic truck that was not moving, which I had plenty of room to move around.  How does this happen?  Allow me to illustrate.

So, I was driving about 40 mph and thought that I had enough room to get by the truck.  Turns out I was wrong.  I ended up hitting the truck with my sideview mirror.  My mirror smashed into a million pieces and I just kept on driving.  Because I am both stupid and dangerous.

Ben really took the UPS incident in stride.  He was totally nice about it.  He fixed the mirror and hugged me and told me that it was okay, but warned me to be more careful.

After that, Ben still trusted me enough to be the designated driver when we went out.  Or, if you’re cynical, Ben would only get in a car with me driving when he was drunk.  He always looked very scared.  And he made a lot of sudden movements towards the wheel when he was afraid I was going to hit something.

So, a few months later when I backed into some dude’s car in a parking lot, smashing my rear tail light and denting my bumper, I was afraid to tell Ben what really happened.  I was like 99.9999999% sure he was going to take my keys away.  So I told him I backed into a pole.  This seemed rational at the time.  Ben was awesome about it, fixed my car, hugged me and told me to be more careful.  He did not take my keys.

This weekend, while having dinner at a friend’s house, we got on the topic of my horrible driving skills.  At which point I thought it would awesome to tell Ben about that accident I had lied to him about.  During dinner.  With our friends.  It went something like this.

Danielle: So, Jill is kind of an awful driver.  I am never getting in the car with her again.

Ben: Ahaha, yes, remember the UPS truck incident?  Since then she’s been good though.

Jill: Hey actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you.  You know that accident I had in January?  I actually hit a guy’s car, not a pole.  Ahahahaha

::silence::

Jill: Ahaha

::silence::

Ben looked like this:

Everyone else looked like this:

I was slowly realizing this was not a good idea.

Ben: WHAT?!  Jill!  You hit a guy’s car?!  And you didn’t tell me?!

Jill: Um, yes?

Ben: Jill, what if this guy sued us?  Was he okay?  Was his car okay?

Jill: Oh, its fine.  His car was totally okay.  I started crying and he felt bad for me and he just left.  We didn’t even exchange information.

Ben: WHAT?!  I can’t believe you’re just telling me that now!

Jill: I was afraid you would take my keys!

Danielle: Would that have been such a bad idea?

Terri: Ben, let me tell you a story that will make you feel better.  A few years ago, one of my friends called me, and she was like, “Did you hear about the accident on Rt. 2 last night?  That was me.”  So she had hit this guy…

Danielle: Was the guy okay?

Terri: Oh no, he died.  But he was homeless and had advanced AIDS.  So, you know, he was going to die anyway.

::silence::

Terri: Turns out my friend had a brain tumor, so that was part of it.

Jill: See Ben, it could have been worse.

And then Ben forgave me, because I didn’t kill any homeless people.

In closing, thank you Terri.