“I hate you!” Lizzy screamed at her father. They were sitting in his car in an empty parking lot as he was trying to prepare her to take the road test for her driver’s license. “Why can’t I learn to drive in Mom’s car. It’s an automatic. All you have to do is put it in drive and step on the gas. But no, you insist on teaching me on your stupid stick shift car.”
“Lizzy, it’s good to know how to drive a car with a standard transmission,” David, Lizzy’s father, said. “Just in case.”
“Oh my God, Dad,” Lizzy said. “Just in case what? In another five years most cars will be electric cars and electric cars have a single gear — drive — plus reverse. And in another ten to twenty years, most cars will be self-driving, autonomous vehicles. I don’t need to learn how to drive a car with a manual transmission and to know how to manage three pedals with only two legs.”
“It’s still a good idea to know how to drive a car with a manual transmission and how to use a clutch,” David insisted. “It can’t hurt.”
Dad, I love you, but you are such a luddite,” Lizzy said. “That’s like saying it’s good to know how to use a fax machine. Who sends faxes anymore? You need to join the twenty-first century, Dad.”
David sighed. “Fine, Lizzy,” he said. “Let’s go find a pay phone so I can call your mother and ask her what she thinks.”
Lizzy shook her head, took out her iPhone, and sent a text to her mother. It just said, “Help me before I commit patricide!”
Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, where the assignment is to use the word “drive” in our posts. Photo credit: istockphoto.com.