It was getting dark, dad asked me to substitute him.
No matter how I positioned my bum, I could never get it right. I start to ponder whether it’s my height that got me feeling awkward or maybe because it’s a new car and the seat feels like the waiting lobby, hard and uncomfy.
I took off. Like it’s brothers and sisters, it’s built with cruise control. I had to switch it on because I couldn’t get the car to respond to my maneuver. So a-boring-110km-drive it was.
I was still uncertain about the technology, although Bong replied with lengthy explanation. I left the ESP on, since it’s best thing to do and I certainly don’t want to crash dad’s new mistress. It was the most tiresome drive back kampung ever.
ESP is short for Electronic Stability Programme, a computer that prevents me from skidding. In other words, it brakes each wheel individually, avoiding understeer or oversteer. Ultimately, keeps me on my toes.
The other feature that bothers me was the Artificial Intelligence that’s constantly learning my driving pattern. How I exit corners, how I’d drive in the rain, do I swerve left to right, everything related to the driver, it computes.
Few days ago, we took the new girl back to Penang. I was already shaking my head, I still prefer the old lady B or Jenny. You know dad, his decision is final.
30 minutes of driving, I felt like banging my head on the steering. Either I was too smart for the computer or too weird, whichever does not leave me with the upper hand. I tried learning the computer, and likewise, we failed to click.
I glanced at the rear view mirror, good, mom and dad is fast asleep. Time to scratch that itchy hand, so I switched off the ESP.
Next thing I know, I’m doing 160kmh effortlessly.
For a speed junky, 160kmh is the normal cruising speed. It’s been 8 years, certainly an evening tea for me. You say, I’m reckless but I assure you, I only break speed limit not driving ethics. If my pessimistic dad can vouch my skills, you should too.
I can now gleefully pet C, the C240 2-doors girl.
ps: I still think C is a waste. What to do, it’s dad’s tab. Not mine.