Learning to Drive
The guy I dated for four years
taught me how to drive.
He himself drove like a crazy person,
so nothing scared him.
A great driver, but he drove 110
on PA’s hilly, curvy roads.
Thank God I made it to my twenties.
Age 14, I must have started in his dad’s
old blue stationwagon before he got
his tiny MGB, which was more
like a toy than a real car.
We painted the MGB orange,
my favorite color. So I
learned to drive a stick shift.
Then it was the red Chevelle,
black interior, with the shift
on the column.
We drove in a large field
and afterward we made out.
It had much more room
than the MGB.
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