The Train Wreck
A (the driver) called me, I thought she was at the lobby of the building I was in but she was at a different building.
“Where you ah?” She asks. I can hear Waze directing her in the background.
“Mercu UEM. Where are you?”
“Menara Shell. Waze took me to Menara Shell.”
“But I put in my location as Mercu UEM. Can you find the place? If you can’t maybe we’ll just cancel this ride.” Regrettably, I’m not very patient with drivers who don’t know where they are or where they are going.
A insists that she’ll find the way and calls me back 2 minutes later, asking for landmarks. I gave her a few but she still had no clue where I was.
“Okay, if you’re at Menara Shell, you need to drive up --”
“Ah okay okay I know already.” She hung up and I shrugged. Okay.
Sure enough, she called me 5 minutes later and said she was at the lobby. I said a hurried goodbye to my friends, went down and jumped into the red MyVi.
“Do you know how to get to your destination from here?” She asks.
Oh boy. Aren’t we in for a ride. Don’t be a bitch, let’s just get home safe.
“Sure. If you can get out of this area I should be able to direct you.” I sit back and pull out my own phone, because I have no sense of direction. If only Waze could also give you directions on where to go in life.
She got on one of the newly renamed highways, followed Waze’s directions for awhile and we ended up in a dark, secluded neighbourhood. I contemplate texting my friend.
“Does this place look familiar to you?” She sits so closely to her steering wheel, trying to figure out where we are in the dark, guided only by the headlights.
“No, it doesn’t. That’s okay, let’s see where Waze takes us and we’ll take it from there.” Good job, Tasnim. Good job at not being a bitch.
Poor A. She was trying not to let it show, but she must have been really, really new. She started rambling about rental prices for apartments in the area and I can hear her voice shaking so I just sit back and remind myself -- the goal is to get home safe.
I see the name of the road and it’s definitely not where I’m heading. I tell her this and she makes a U-turn back on the newly renamed highway and I see a signboard for Bangsar.
“There, take the left exit to Bangsar.” I point out the signboard to her.
“Ah? Where? Left?” She takes the left turn and we’re back on familiar ground.
Okay, now we’re back in control. I’ve never met a driver that nervous. I think she had both Waze and Google Maps directing her to two different routes to get to the same place, and she still kept on asking me for directions.
When we approach my street, I tell her to keep on the right lane and turn in at the traffic light. For some reason she veers off to the left.
“You need to keep to your right. Right.” She quickly steers to the right and turns in, though the lane she was on was for cars going straight.
Almost home! She drives forward, looking anywhere but forward.
“Okay, I’m right there. You can drop me off here.” I grab my bag and make a move towards the door.
“Have a good night.” I try not to sound too relieved that I’m finally out of the car.
I thought it was a long ride -- it was only 12 minutes.