On Saturday, Devon had to go out to his Mom’s so he took my SUV instead of his car. In the entirety of our relationship/friendship, he’s only ever driven a car of mine once because he hates driving other people’s cars and that was when I had my old Jeep Liberty. So he’s never actually driven my car in the almost three years I’ve had it. He’s been in it, obviously, but always as a passenger.
He discovered that I have power everything, mostly power brakes and was not a happy camper when he realized that. I probably should have told him, but I’ve gotten so used to them that I didn’t think about it. 10 minutes after he leaves the house I get a text:
“Let me count how many times I’ve already almost gone through the windshield.”
“Oh yeah…you wouldn’t be used to power brakes would you? You pretty much only need to graze them to get it to stop. Please don’t kill my car.”
“Yeah……I’m getting that. If it dies it’s not my fault.”