Driving styles
My husband was left somewhat ashen this morning. There I was, test driving a new Chrysler 300D through the fetching English countryside - in an abundance of varying shades of green and dotted with small farms, where geese and chickens loitered along roadsides that seldom saw a passing car. I was so taken aback at some of the vistas I would crane my neck and turn around in the driver’s seat to better view it.
“I can’t quite understand how you’ve managed to stay alive all these years,” he piped up from the back seat. “You lunge around bends, mostly on the wrong side of the road then seem genuinely astonished to find a 40-ton truck bearing down on you.”
“There’s just so much to see,” I responded. “Anyway, this is why I have Penny-Lane (my teenage daughter) in the front seat.” Penny smiled brightly then continued to stare intently ahead. “You see Penny is my alarm device.”
“… your what?” my husband demanded.
As if on queue, Penny shrieked and I swerved out of the way of the oncoming vehicle at the last possible instant, I then hung out of the window shouting abuse at the passing driver before being shrieked back to the next crisis by both Penny and my husband.
“Like that,” I announced triumphantly.
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