My friend Sherry arrived a little late for our lunch date and the minute she walked in, I knew something was wrong. The look on her face was one of sheer terror.
“What’s wrong?” I asked with a mixture of anxiety and trepidation, bracing myself for her reply. Sherry could sometimes over-react and perhaps she was simply being overly anxious. But this appeared serious. I wasn’t sure quite what to expect.
“Oh my G_d!” I’ve just had the worst experience of my life; I was out of my wits,” she exclaimed, plopping herself down in the seat next to me, continuing her tale. “My brother, Justin, is visiting us this week. It’s his first visit to Nevada and he was keen to visit Virginia City. He arrived and immediately opened a guidebook and enthusiastically read: ‘Virginia City, an important mining town of the old west, preserved today much as it was at its height in the nineteenth century; famously serving as a backdrop for a popular TV series.’”
Immediately the theme from the 1960s show “Bonanza” (one of my favorites as a kid) began running through my head. You know the one: 🎵Bum, da da dum, da da dum, da da dum, da da dum, da da dah dum…🎵. The image of Ben Cartwright and his boys on galloping horses in a cloud of dust popped up in my head, accompanied by the musical background. The music stuck as I struggled to clear my mind and listen to my friend.
“What could be so scary about Virginia City?” I ventured. “Did you get stuck in a silver mine on a tour or something?”
“No, worse! We almost didn’t get there at all!” Sherry took a sip from her glass of Chardonnay and continued, not skipping a beat or tiny little detail.
It seems that Justin had rented a car for his visit - and not just any car. It was a brand new 2025 Tesla Model S with autonomous driving features. He just couldn’t wait to test out the trademark self-driving option on the windy mountain roads leading from Reno up to the old west town. Before you could say “howdy partner,” brother and sister were on their way up the steep elevation.
As she described it, Justin delightedly sat back in the driver’s seat, no hands on the wheel, letting the car drive all by itself. “I was terrified” she insisted. “You know that road is all curves and steep inclines! He just sat there, hands behind his head, while the car careened forward like James Bond’s Aston Martin zooming through the Alps. I had my eyes closed the entire time so didn’t see the speedometer, but it felt like we were going 90 miles an hour.”
“The worst part was that he wouldn’t listen to me when I asked him to slow down. I had to hold on for dear life and by the time we got there, I was exhausted. I just don’t understand how a car can drive itself! I just don’t.” She sat back, exhausted and took a sip from her wine glass.
I suppressed a smile at the telling of my friend’s tale. I didn’t doubt her upset but also didn’t really think they were going 90 miles an hour on those roads. It was also debatable that Justin let the car take over completely. That said, I also understood how she felt. My hubby often employs the “driver assist” feature on his car and sometimes takes his hands off the wheel and lets the car do the driving for him. I must admit to being a bit frightened - and quite often verbal in my objections.
Sherry’s venting wound down, finally calm enough to finish her lunch. I hoped that I had been a good friend by listening as she got the upset out of her system. As we each got into our own non-self-driving cars to go home, Sherry shared one last thought:
“I sure do wish Justin could just have driven the car himself and a little bit slower. Twenty-five miles an hour would have been just fine. You know, like when Morgan Freeman chauffeured Jessica Tandy around in “Driving Miss Daisy.” I hugged my friend goodbye as she buckled her seatbelt and wistfully added “Where IS Morgan Freeman when you need him?”
Great! Now I have the theme from “Driving Miss Daisy” running through my head. 🎶 Ba da da da da da, ba da da da da …🎶.
© 2025 Annie Sokoloff
Comments