Today I’m linking up with Meighan for her one-time-only topic: That One Time.
So. I guess it goes like this: What had happened was… this one time, I had my learner’s permit. (Can you see where this is going?) I actually think this was the second round of me having it. I had it for two years because my mom wasn’t ready to let go of the reigns. That’s probably good. Anyway…
My best friend lived an hour away from me at the time, so we always had a “halfsies” point where our parents would meet if we were spending the weekend together. Side note: when you live an hour away from your BFF, you don’t just spend one night at their house. It’s always a whole weekend.
One day, my stepdad decided it would be a good idea if I drove to the halfsies point since I needed the hours/practice. First of all, it’s over a bridge. Um. Scary. Second of all, well, there is no second of all. It was just scary. It wasn’t even a big bridge; it was just my first experience driving over one so it freaked me out a little bit. Okay, onward. So I successfully drive over the bridge with no panic attack or hyperventilating, and I come to the halfsies spot. I was pulling into the parking spot (still not one of my strong points. I have to correct like 9285729 times) and they had those cement blocks so you know where to stop.
Guess who accidentally hit the gas instead of the brake?
I jumped the block, hit the corner of the building (no damage was done to the building — only to my car, but barely), and then completely freaked out. Of course, when I looked over at my BFF and her mom, they were laughing hysterically at me. So hard, in fact, that they couldn’t open the door to get out of the car. Right.
I did still end up spending the weekend with my friend, and as soon we got to her house she told EVERYONE (her dad and her three siblings) what happened. And then she told all her friends. And then I was mortified. And then I got over it.
And so now… BFF’s dad calls me Crash.