She yanked the wheel to the left, hard. She then jammed her foot on the accelerator as her car fishtailed around the corner nearly clipping a row of parked cars.
“Please stop!” her passenger screamed, bracing himself with both hands against the vinyl dashboard.
But she ignored his pleas for help. She had heard enough from this bespectacled middle-aged man today – his snide remarks, his constant nitpicks, all dripping with condescension.
“I’m begging!” he cried.
Another request she had no problem dismissing. Her driving test was already a colossal failure, this she knew.
Might as well have a little fun.
The Weekday One Hundred 