Do You Always Ride the Clutch Like That?

I was driving my ’72 VW Beetle down the tight circular ramp from the top floor of the parking ramp. My boss, who sometimes doubled as a friend, sat next to me, his notebooks and papers on his knee, watching me play the clutch and the brake around the curves.

“Do you always ride the clutch like that?”

The insinuation was plain. The question masked the criticism. He thought I was a fearful driver. He didn’t say it but I could smell it in the car. The little, fragrant tendril of disdain.

He thought I drove like a girl.

Fuck that. Just weeks before I had a guy tell me I drove ‘like a man.’ I remember glowing, ramming the car into 3rd gear seconds after we hit the street, working the gears at the light like I was an Indy driver under yellow.

Do you always look 48 times before changing lanes?

Do you need to enlist a pedestrian to help you parallel park?

Are you afraid of passing semi-trucks on a two-lane road?

Do you always ride the clutch like that?

I’m not drawing any conclusions from your answers, you know. Just curious.

Next time, I’m going to ask you how you throw.