5
828 Words
Paul was right. We’re late and traffic jams aren’t helping. Paul, at the wheel of his BMW, decided to replace the insults with repeated honking. It’s almost worse than yelling a good curse. Peony red, his features pulled tight, he’s angry. Too much!
“Do you want me to drive?”
“Why? I know the way!” he growls.
Paul knows the way and that’s good! I’m glad I didn’t have to guide him. I don’t feel like driving. As I recall, I haven’t touched a car in ages. It only happens to me when Mom offers to go with her somewhere and gives me the wheel. I drive so infrequently that I don’t even know how I’m going to get by with the Audi. That’s right! I have an Audi; I still can’t believe it. I dare not ask Paul about this. He already finds me so weird, no need to raise any further suspicions. Everything in its time! Tonight, we have dinner with the parents and tomorrow is another day. That of the return to my life before! For sure! I feel it.
Grr! Mm! Pff!
Paul restrains himself. He’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown. An unlikely number of sounds come out of his mouth but he doesn’t c***k. No insult in sight.
“Be careful, brake!” I cry.
“w***e! What? What?” he said, sharply. “Why are you screaming like that? Are you crazy or what? You freaked me out!”
“Sorry, I thought you hadn’t seen the granny.”
“Of course, I saw the grandma! You scared me!”
“Listen, Paul, if you want, you can curse out loud. It was stupid to ask you not to. Personally, since we’ve been in the car, I’ve got a mad desire to shout at anything that moves. The car, there, who didn’t use their indicator when turning left, the motorbike that swerved to the right, the bus moving at twenty miles an hour, the taxi stopping right in the middle lane without caring if he’s being closely followed! Honestly, they’re all big a-holes! Ah, how good that feels!”
Paul looks at me, surprised, before bursting out laughing!
“Julien, you’re a new man! Is being in your thirties doing this to you?”
“You can’t imagine how much! Oh, damn it! How good it feels to let off steam!”
I understand that a man needs to externalize, that he can’t contain his verbal aggression when behind the wheel. If I force Paul to contain his stress, he’ll get even angrier and maybe cause an accident. It’s all about hormones! Testosterone naturally plays an important role in aggressiveness, risk-taking and a taste for competition. Boys take more risks and respect the rules less to test their limits. It’s therefore typically masculine to complain at the wheel. And it’s expected that girls endure it without flinching because criticism would only amplify the bad mood of these gentlemen and generate additional tensions in the car. Ah, it’s good to be in the shoes of a man!
Now that it seems obvious to me, I remember our romantic trips when I was with Arnold. Rare were the times when we arrived at a friend’s house without getting angry in the car, either because of the GPS, or because of the incivilities that I saw on every street corner. I have a holy horror of rudeness in general. I couldn’t help but stand up for others, pedestrians, motorcyclists, motorists, as long as their attitude could be a bit justified, which exasperated Arnold even more and made him even more execrable. When he left my life, with his car, I had to move towards other means of getting around: public transport, cycling, feet. Incivilities, I see them every day but from a different angle. My helmet is my best friend, except for my hairstyle… As for driving, with a car I hear, it might be wise for me to take a few lessons again if I want to avoid having an accident! But what am I saying? Tomorrow it’ll all be over. Instead of the Audi in the parking lot, I will find my MBK bicycle on my balcony.
We finally arrive in front of my parents’ home. Nothing has changed. My father’s Renault is in the driveway, the garbage cans perfectly aligned to the side, the impeccably trimmed grass, in short… Everything is in its place.
“Okay, here we are!” I say out loud.
“Yes, here we are! I’m so hungry. Hope your mom made her lasagne. Is your brother-in-law here too?”
“Jeremy? Uh, yes, probably since Sylvia is here. Why this question?”
“Nah, nothing. I hope he doesn’t hit us with his questions.”
Having no idea what he’s talking about, I prefer to remain silent. Let’s go! The evening may be long! I mumble s**t to wish myself good luck.
- Writer
