Friday, May 3, 2013

V is for Vehicle

Ex was not usually a bad driver. My dad was a very aggressive driver and frequently terrified the whole family with his anger and bad decisions. One thing I looked for in a man was for him to be a good driver. Ex was. His vehicle was a Toyota truck, and he took great pride in keeping it clean and running well.
Until the day we left the library to find the truck, which was parallel parked, squished in between two cars. There was enough room to wiggle out by going backwards and forwards quite a few times, but Ex was having none of that.
He backed up just a little and then rammed the car in front of us, breaking their tail light and his headlight. I was shocked but said nothing. If he was mad, there was nothing I could do to make the situation better. So I just sat there. I think I may have even laughed. I'm not proud. But what else could I have done?


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Don't make me talk to myself, yo.

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