Uniquestwfemme's post triggered a memory for me: Driver's Ed.
Some guy, the driver's ed teacher, would load four of us in a little beater car and his first stop was always 7-11, where he'd get a large coffee—which he would invariably spill all over himself.
I contributed to this phenomenon with my bad habit of braking, the instant I panicked behind the wheel. I did this the first time he had me go onto the freeway. I remember him screaming, "Go! Go! Go!" because I had braked, having gotten spooked the moment I was going from the on ramp to the first lane. Coffee was steaming off his shirt, and the girls in the backseat were cracking up.
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Reach out.
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