DRIVING DEAD CENTRE

THE ONE THING THAT DROVE ME

ABSOLUTELY CRAZY ABOUT MY

BOYFRIEND BILL WAS THE

WAY HE  DROVE.

HE WOULD INSIST ON DRIVING

IN THE DEAD CENTRE

OF A TWO WAY INTERSECTION

AND NO MATTER HOW MUCH

I COMPLAINED,

SULKED, AND THREATENED,

NOTHING MADE A DENT.  

THE ONLY CONSOLATION I FOUND

WAS THE THOUGHT THAT AT LEAST

THE CARS COMING TOWARDS US,

WERE STAYING IN THEIR LANE.  

SURE ENOUGH,

I SOON RESIGNED MYSELF

TO MY FATE,

BUT I WOULD STILL CRINGE

ALL TOO OFTEN WHILE ON THE ROAD.

WELL, THE DAY FINALLY CAME

WHEN I WAS TO MEET BILL’S FAMILY.

WE HEADED TO THE SMALL HICK TOWN

THAT HE WAS FROM IN PENNSYLVANIA

AND HAD A GRAND OL’

TIME WITH HIS FOLKS.

IT WAS WHEN WE WENT OUT FOR

A DRIVE IN THE OLD FAMILY PICK UP

THAT I LEARNED THAT THINGS

COULD GET QUITE A BIT WORSE.

“DON’T WORRY ABOUT MY

HUSBAND’S DRIVING IN

THE CENTRE OF THE ROAD,”

SAID BILL’S MOM

WITH A BIG FRIENDLY SMILE,

AS WE HEADED ONTO

A TWO WAY INTERSECTION.  

“THAT’S WHAT EVERYONE

DOES AROUND HERE!!”