The PKR (psycho killer rapist) hasn’t killed me yet, so I’m still here. He seems to be a good guy, and he doesn’t flail wildly or hang on to the “oh shit” handle when I make dangerous lane switching decisions.

Seriously. I don’t think I could carpool in someone else’s car. I like being in charge of the driving. I like to pick which lane and when, how fast, what radio station to listen to, etc. When James is driving, at least I still get a say in all that (even though he repeatedly tells me I DON’T get a say in which lane is fastest and which route home will be quickest. Something about “back seat driving.” HOG WASH! I let him know I love him by informing him that Balls Ford Rd is much quicker than 28 at this time of day. He reciprocates by threatening divorce papers. It’s just the little dance that we call love.)

But when you sit in a relative stranger’s car, you have to stay mum on these important driver decisions lest they cast you out. Change the station, or adjust the climate control, and you risk being cast out while the vehicle is still moving, and possibly still on the freeway.

So I have to applaud my PKR in that he can do the idle chit chat or tolerate long periods of silence as well without getting all edgy and nervous and trying to talk anyway. No moves toward the radio or the AC/heat, and even no yelling profanities when I almost took out that little Toyota Corolla on my way to the HOV lane.

Yup, I think this carpooling/slugging thing might work out!