There are a lot of bad drivers in Taiwan. Or perhaps they're all really good drivers. Everyone's is aggressive, no one uses turn signals, and there's a lot of passing in narrow lanes with incoming traffic. Taiwanese drivers make Boston drivers look like Hello Kitty. Whenever Father and Mother see an especially atrocious and rude driver, being the sociologically insensitive generalizers that they are, they like to accuse the other sex of the offense. So riding in the car is a lot of "psh, women drivers." "I bet that was a guy. Only a man would drive like that." "All bad drivers are women." "No, they're men. Look at that one." "Women." "Men." "Women." "Men." Really, I can't believe I'm leaving all this fun tomorrow to go home to ride in the sanctuary of my own car to my own music.
(As father tries to pull out of a tight parking space in a tiny garage today...)
Moi: Why don't you just hit the car [badly parked in front of us]? No one will see but us and Jesus and I'm sure Jesus will forgive you.
Father: That's great about Jesus, but if I scratch his car, I also scratch my car. I don't want the car to get scratched.
Sometimes, Jesus' grace just doesn't quite cut it.
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