Fun & Famous

FOR ALL THE PEOPLE WHO FIND DRIVING ALONE ‘SCARY’

You have had your driver's license for a while, have been smart enough to always get in the car with others, and now barely dare to sit behind the wheel alone. Recognizable? Oh dear, then we can shake hands.

This week has completely confirmed: I am a hysterical disaster in the car. I sincerely hope my ex-driving instructor doesn't read this (hi Martijn), because he didn't raise me this way and this story is embarrassing. If I ever run into him at the supermarket, I say: ‘Yaaaaa, no, it's going SUPER with driving,“ so that poor guy is blissfully unaware of what a dangerous maniac I have become. I spent another weekend at my boyfriend's in the east of the country and decided to be #TheBestGirlfriendEvah by doing the grocery shopping, so he could join me for my royal meal right after work. The fact that this plan was doomed to fail started with the whole cooking plan, but hey, sometimes you have those ideas that seem mega brilliant until you start.

‘Thirty seconds later, I'm sitting in the car with sweat on my upper lip and a trembling knee’

I just went for a run in the sun, took a shower, put on a summer flutter dress, and I'm about to ride my bike to the supermarket. So far, it sounds very normal and all, but in my public transport/taxi life cycling is already a huge victory – I'm a bit of a weirdo, yes. With a bang, I slam the door shut and then it starts pouring down. It's unbearable. And then there it was. The eye contact with Sander's car in the parking lot. The angel and the devil start a discussion. ‘No, I’d rather walk.‘ ’But you have to carry a lot of stuff.‘ ’No, I’ll kill myself if I get in the car alone.‘ ’Just do it, whiner, EVERYONE can do it.‘ Thirty seconds later, I'm sitting in the car with sweat on my upper lip and a trembling knee. The neighbor walks by and I hear myself say the words ’never, alone, do you want to ride along, supermarket.‘ Then you feel pathetic, I must say. ’Good luck, Kiek, it will be fine!“ he says while walking away with a grin. You have to rely on your neighbors.

After a little four minutes, I'm slightly lost. I am absolutely convinced that it has nothing to do with intelligence, it's just a disease. I also call it geographically handicapped (GH) and it's serious. The plan was to go to the Jumbo, but it seems to have spontaneously disappeared and suddenly I'm at an Albert Heijn. That's fine too. Groceries in and then back home with screeching tires. Uh, where was I again? Three laps later. Sweat beads at almost every intersection. Pouring rain. WHERE is that windshield wiper again?!!! People with umbrellas. I SEE nothing. Where AM I? I didn't see this road on the way here? The GH is acting up again. Blind panic + hyperventilation = double panic attack. Car to the side. With the hazard lights on, I rummage like a scared deer in my bag looking for my iPhone. Some people believe in the prince on the white horse, I believe in Google Maps.

‘Can someone please open a hatch in the ground where I -with car and all- can disappear?

I text a friend: ‘HELP I'm alone in the car and lost and I'm definitely in another village and Sander is really going to laugh at me.’ I enter his home address. “After two hundred meters turn and then destination reached,” suddenly sounds from my phone. Can someone please open a hatch in the ground where I -with car and all- can disappear? Thank you. Once back in the parking lot, Sander walks over enthusiastically. Kiek, did you go by car? Alone?! Good for you! How did it go?

“Yaaaaa, no, it went SUPER.” Fuck my life.