Love of Driving

You know the worst thing about being a spooky skeleton who drives? Everyone just assumes that you don’t drive well.

“Oh, look at him with his spooky eye sockets, and his spooky lack of peripheral vision, and spooky bone feet that could easily get trapped behind the pedals! He must be a bad driver!”

First off, I do not appreciate stereotypes of anyone being a bad driver, spooky skeletons included. And second, I’m a great driver! In fact, I’ve probably logged more driving hours than most people. Just ask the car servicing garages in Adelaide, because I went on an epic road trip there over the weekend. Partly I just wanted to go on an epic rooooad triiiiip, but also I needed some supplies for my new and upcoming home. The spirits of the spooky forest said there was a sale on a very special type of lumber, so I jumped at the chance to get me some, yes sir I did! Drove all the way to Adelaide, but when I got there I needed some serious wheel alignment. I tell you what, they need to have a warning on the inside of cars that they’re supposed to stay on the road. I saw a nice bit of wasteland and wanted to see it a bit closer, so I left the road and trundled along the arid ground for a little while. Even in my human disguise, with trenchcoat, hat and full moustache, I think my surprise at the cost was obvious. You can bet I stuck to the road on the way back.

All in all, I’m very fond of driving. A few times I’ve forgotten my disguise, and my natural spooky charm has caused serious traffic pileups, but that mostly doesn’t happen. I’m actually quite glad our Human Classes hammered the principles of automobiles in so hard, because I don’t remember a thing from when I was alive and presumably knew about car repair shops. Perhaps I was an F1 driver! Or…a pizza delivery person! Oh, both of them would be wonderful! But I suppose I’ll never know.

-R. McSkulliam