Driving lesson

Nico, don’t you know how to drive ?
No, I don’t. Why? Because I fucking hate cars, I fucking hate traffic lights, I fucking hate crossroads, I fucking hate clutches, I fucking hate roundabouts, I fucking hate road signs, I fucking hate gas stations, I fucking hate highways, I fucking hate patronizing driving teachers, I fucking hate “pschtt pschtt cleanin’up my windshield with a sip of spray cos’ ya can’t see folks driving your way cos’ ya have dead insects or bird poop on ya windshield ya”, I fucking hate dickheads drivers that cut roads and don’t give a shit about it, basically negating your right to live as a human being.


That is the problem. The road is not made for humans to live decently. It’s for cars. Period.
The road is basically made for douchebags fighting over the size of their dick in epic duels of morroness and brutal stupidity. 
They don’t give a fuck about who you are, about what you do, they’re just slapping in your learner face the big fat cock of injustice in a tired honking sound of excitement and cruelty. 
I’m not usually scared of people when I walk in the streets, because actually, you have a very small risk of actually DYING when bumping into someone. 
It’s not the same when you’re driving because basically any idiot who don’t even know how to read can kill you, and it will be his fault. And you, well you’ll be sorry, because you’ll be dead.


The teacher is not your friend.
I used to like my driving teachers because I admired their raw exhalation of mannish virility. You know this complex mix of coffee and cigarette breath, this little twinge of old sweat when it’s hot outside, the stains of diesel on their shoes… 
I respected their not-giving a fuck attitude with girls, whistling at skirts and following asses like if it was the brand new Maseratti Quattoporte (“Oh what, you didn’t see it yet? how gay you must be son?”). 
The reason I’m also slowly starting to hate them is how they see everything as a big deal. 
For instance when you pull your car over to park : “What ?!? You didn’t double checked the dead angle when you were parking your car in this lousy abandoned by all parking lot? You must be retarded!”
 To them, everything is a matter of one-second-do-it-or-not-or-die-like-a-fucking-loser-situation and never let you go with it. You’re just trying to do your job at the driving wheel as well as you can and it’s not enough. 
You’re an upstanding citizen working hard and contributing to society as a whole and they treat you like shit. 
Don’t forget that in the meantime, you have in mind the sorry ass example of your relatives, family and friends driving stoned to death or passably drunk, something that you’ll never do because you’re a caring and decent well educated person.  
I could list you a whole bunch of other examples when this guy sitting lazily at your right wants you to behave like fucking Robocop and each time you don’t makes you feel deeply sorry about it.


Mental Mayhem.
Word after word, mistake after mistake the anger grows slowly when watching this swarm of tall four graders fucking around with your nerves. 
Your primal hate grows and goes away in mental spurts that you try to hide in the back of your mind (when concentrating on which way to go on this damn twisted road, designed by a sick bastard that was a local because everybody knows here that you have to go right-right-left, watch the double traffic lights arrows and make a pause on a white line as thin as my ball's skin and wait a little while because otherwise, a train can slice the car in two. And then turn left. It’s as simple as that). 


And the guy goes “Open your eyes! Are your sleeping or what?”


And you’re like “I’ve got my eyes wide opened you fucker, see that truck coming?”


*HORN SOUND/FLASH/THUNDER/RAGGED NOISE OF TORN METAL AND TWISTED PLASTIC/BLACKOUT*


Stunning quiet. Yes. You’re better off dead.

Manhood lesson

Some of you are maybe familiar with Jean Claude my school driving monitor, here is a nice piece of today’s lesson I'd like to share with you:


-Nick, why the fuck are you always stuck in second gear? Do you see this fucking sign? It says 50 km per hour, not 35 Okay?
-It’s a speed limit, I can drive under 50.
-Oh here it is, mister smart ass, I’m gonna cry. Now come on, speed this shit up. Do you know Steeve Mc Queen? Do you know Superman? That’s the kind of man I want you to be on the road.
Now try to be that man. Why wouldn’t you be such a man?
-I’ll try sir.
-Don’t call me sir, you can call me Jean Claude, I’m your pal, it’s been what, forty hours we’ve been driving together. I would have already banged the shit out of you if you’d been a girl. But now, considering the way that you drive I’m starting to wonder. Do you have a pair of balls?
-Uh yeah
-I hope so, because if you keep on driving this slow, I’ll chop yours off, put them in an ice bucket and give it to a charity like “Balls for all” if you know what I mean. You gotta be proud of it.
-Ok
-Great, now show me your balls.
-…
-Come on grab your balls!
-Like this (me grabing my crotch while driving).
-Yeah now say it “I’m a man!”
-I’m a man.
-Shit no you faggot, louder.
-I’m a man !
-Fuck yeah, do you smoke?
-No
-Oh shit, it’s exactly what it’s all about. Come on, have one.
-I’m driving.
-So pull over, right here.
-What?
-Pull the fuck over now, that’s an order, that’s an exercise. Do it.
-OK, here we are. 
-Come one, have one. Here’s a light.
-I feel like my head is spinning.
-Don’t you feel more relaxed?
-Hum, kinda.
-That’s what the deal is all about. Now drive fucking fast.
-Like this?
*Motor roaring*
-Yeah man! Don’t you feel so free and so happy you could die and still don’t give a shit?
-Yes, but someone wants to cross the road.
-Oh? That girl? She’s ugly anyway, don’t let her pass.
-Ok.
-Well, end of the lesson; let’s go back to the school.
-Right on
-Ok, now I’m gonna give you some homework.
-What?.
-Yes, what day is it, Friday or Saturday?
-Saturday.
-Perfect. Here is your homework: find a geaorgeous girl and do yourself a favor. Bang the shit out of her, and never call her again. Next week, you’ll tell me if your balls are working. Thats all I want to know as far as I’m concerned. I’m worried about you man.
-Ok, have a nice week end.
-Thanks, you too buddy.