Silly girl, driving is for boys!

Unfortunately, being a woman has several negative implications, many of which elude me, but one in particular which I can not handle: "Women can not drive." This has become more than just a stereotype such as blonde women being stupid, since it’s not really proven that blondes or women are more stupid than men or brunettes. But I have actually read supposedly scientific articles claiming that there is proof that men instinctively drive better, something about a great hand-eye coordination gene or something or the other, to which I say, as a true blonde chic, “Like, whatever!”

My family consists of four females and one male, that male being my dad. Guess who is the worst driver out of all of us? My dad. I can’t even count how many car wrecks he’s been in, how many speeding tickets he has received from policemen, how many times he has just barely avoided a major crash. Now, guess how many wrecks my mom and my sisters have been in all together? Three. One when my oldest sister Dominika was 16 and green; having not yet mastered defensive driving, she somehow could not avoid a trucker illegally running a red light and smashing into the side of her car. Another occurred when my sister Marta was driving across the country with her friend right after college. While shouting, “California or bust!” bust they did. But guess who was driving? Not Marta. Only I had the most careless crash of which I was to blame, when I was playing with the radio instead of watching the stoplight ahead and the car in front of me, which I eventually bumped into ever-so slightly. The driver didn’t even take my insurance down because the damage was so minimal. And my mom? Can you guess? None. Take that, science.

It’s funny that my dad should be such a bad driver, since his dad was a taxi driver, but I guess granddad’s genes skipped a generation and passed down to us girls. All of us have always felt natural in a car, as Marta became a delivery girl for the company she was working for in Lumberton, one of her most favorite jobs ever. I remember her always telling me that her favorite thing to do was to get in the car and just drive and discover new places around town. As for Dominika, she has put no less than 30,000 miles on her cars in summation, as she traveled back and forth from her homes in New York City and Los Angeles. I’ve made that cross-country trip myself quite a few times, driving all night and all day, both of us sure of our ability to make it from one coast to the other unscathed. We all know not only how to make sure our driving is safe, but to keep out of the way of other unsafe drivers, a lesson we all learned from Dominika’s first accident.

When I was in high school I was the unanimously appointed chauffeur, since most of my friends did not have cars, and the ones that did had already totaled theirs; by the way, most of my friends were boys. I am proud to say that even despite being distracted by all of my friends, the music, and the what-have-yous, I only once damaged my car, and thankfully have never injured any of my friends or myself in the process. I’m not going to turn around and say that all guys are bad drivers, but I just want to drive home the point that just because I am a girl does not mean that you can not get in the passenger's seat with me, and in fact, I would prefer for you to be in the passenger's seat of my car, rather than me in yours. I can agree with some other stereotypes about women--yes, sometimes we are moody, especially once a week every month, and yes, sometimes we can be a bit ditsy, but usually it’s only an act to get what we want from you. But driving, I have no excuse for, since I am a good driver, as is every other female in my family. In fact, if you’re a guy I even dare to say that I am a better driver than you. Take that, boys!