Very Bad Things - Part Three

I stole my dads car when I was 15....but I had to get to work so I totally justified it to myself ok?

Hey, I was running late and work called to hassle me. The car was sitting in the driveway and the keys were there.

I had been driving around the country roads in mums Honda a few times so therefore I knew was I was doing - how hard could it be?

Never mind the fact dads car wasn't a Honda




It was a dirty big ole Valiant Charger. With a steering wheel like a bus and the handling of the QE2.

Of course I was wearing my teenage princess-of-everything-and-holder-of-all-knowledge pants, grabbed the keys and hopped right in and drove to work very uneventfully.....actually I was crapping those princess pants and it got worse when it came to parking. I HAD to park in a multi-level thingos, and it's not fun negotiating them when you are driving the equivalent of said QE2.

In fact I somehow managed to drive it up the side of the car in space next to mine. I somehow grazed the side and the valiant got caught on the strip on the other car and I was inching into the space so slowly I didn't notice until I felt like I was tipping over. I reversed back and noted no damage to either vehicle....and a guy behind me killing himself laughing.

I managed to get the car back home later that night, (undetected!) - and swore never to do it again, cos maybe I wasn't as smart as I thought.