Polo Bear and I had just gotten out of the movies and we were both hungry. We were in Glen Cove which, despite its picturesque name that conjures up images of suburban splendor by some very nice little harbor where the sun sets behind sailboats, is really just ghetto. Not as bad as Hempstead, though.
Sidenote: One time when I crossed from Garden City to Hempstead, (AND EVERYONE KNOWS WHEN THAT HAPPENS) the first thing I saw was two dogs fighting over a piece of meat. Like just on the sidewalk, casually, like this sort of thing is an every day occurrence. They were really going at it. Barking and biting, RUMBLIN'. It was gross.
So anyway, Polo Bear and I are at the SHADIEST PLACE EVER/Wendy's. And I'm a little fuzzy on the details but maybe I missed the drive-thru lane. (?) So we, more specifically I, go back to try again but instead of making a wide turn into the left lane of the right side of the street, I hang a sharp left INTO THE NEAREST LANE. I drove Wesley Snipes** on the wrong side of the road. In the dark. In Glen Cove. With a bunch of cops around. For like three seconds. It was still the scariest thing ever because one SUV passed us. I was literally shaking so bad I couldn't eat or drink or really even talk. I could've ended the lives of two very smart, talented, young men. After less than a month of driving full-time. Guilt much? P'sha.
I hope these three entries have inspired my readers to exercise caution and act responsibly behind the wheel of an automobile. Because THAT is what I'm doing this for. But, seriously I could've died.
*Because you know that every time there's a fatal accident on Long Island (bonus points if still in high school/on way to baptism/wedding/soup kitchen) the front page editors just giggle and throw confetti in the air.***
**If you're curious, WHICH YOU TOTALLY ARE, it's because my car is black on the outside and inside, "Wayne Brady." Also, I am a HUGE racist.
***That was in poor taste.
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