Tolerance on the Road
I really do hate to harp on about this one subject, but the road really isn’t made for spooky skeleton drivers. I try my hardest, partly because driving is fun and partly because I find the concept of a skeleton driving a car hilarious, even if the skeleton is me. Just imagine it! I’m driving along, all skull and bones, waving to people with my bony hands, making fun jokes about how I have ‘no body’ to go with on my road trip, or how I need to fill up with petrol soon, otherwise the tank will be ‘bone dry’. Oh-ho-ho-ho, such fun!
But people make it hard. I go to get brake repairs done in Moorabbin, like the teacher said we should in order to practice our conversational speaking, and I somehow just can’t turn off the spookiness. I’m being very polite, treating all mechanics with respect as I ask them to fix my vehicle. It needs a lot of repairs, because people keep crashing into me when they see me driving. Something about a spooky skeleton driving a car just causes people to lose control of the wheel.
Manners are their own reward, fellow drivers! If I wave to you and let you out, you should merge in a quick and orderly fashion, not scream and immediately smash into a concrete traffic barrier, causing a sixteen-car pile-up. Rude!
Yes, it’s a tough gig out there for skeletons who can’t turn off their spookiness. Right now I need an auto electrician, and I’m in dire need of some tyre replacement. Last time I tried to wave a pedestrian across a road in the rain, like a gentle-skeleton, they screeched something about compelling my destruction with holy power and attacked my tires with their umbrella. Fortunately the old dear was about 83 and lacked upper body strength, but she did a bit of damage with the sharp umbrella tip before hobbling into the night.
I just generally need a car service. Moorabbin is the perfect place for it. But I’m afraid to show up and hand over the keys. A spooked mechanic is one who isn’t properly focusing on their work.
Maybe it’s time to bust out the old fedora…