I felt like writing, so… 🙂

My first day driving on my own was a very memorable one. I had passed my test but it took about a month before I got my first car. Yes, I can be a little bit fussy, but they tell me choosing a car is much like choosing a spouse; they tell me I must have some type of standard :/ But having male siblings in my family who all have opinions on cars didn’t really help me choose a car quickly.

The first car I fell in love with turned out to be an absolute disaster. You see, I didn’t want a brand new car (in the likely case that I ruin it) but I also didn’t want a complete banger (coz y’know, I’m supposed to have style and all that). So after days of searching, I finally saw a beautiful VW Polo and immediately put a deposit down. My brothers and I went to view it and surprise surprise! I was lied to. For starters, it had dents, scratches, and marks everywhere. Secondly, the owner had modified the car so much; lowered it to the ground, and had removed big set speakers from the back so it now had ugly gaping holes in place. To top it off, the registration plate said ‘HATERS’. That, dear people, was the quick and miserable end of my love story.

But I got back on to my search and soon afterwards, I found a much better car. It was even more beautiful and charming. But the owner wasn’t. No, he was conniving, but I’ll come back to that later. So anyway, I went to check it out with my brother and we both agreed it was worth it so I prayed Istikharah and got my first car! I drove it for a bit, and just to make sure everything was fine, I even drove with supervision all the way to my workplace and back home – it drove exquisitely.

So… Monday morning came, and I set off with the rest of London’s zombified workforce. We were released into the week as zombies usually are, and I was finally on the road by myself – it felt great! I was about 10mins out from home on one of the busiest roads in West London when I notice a few lights had come on in the dashboard. Now, I don’t know cars very well, but I do know that those lights were not on before. ‘Hmm,’ I thought, ‘That’s strange.’ But since the car was still moving fine, I carried on driving, smiling into the sunshine. A few minutes later, I notice the accelerator was getting heavier. Then more lights came on the dashboard; ABS, Petrol, Brakes, Oil, and other symbols I’ve never seen before. What on earth was happening? The lights then started to flash and to top it off, I heard what sounded like a mini siren! Oh my God! My car was having multiple organ failure! I started panicking a little and realized I needed to get off this road before I broke down and became the recipient of every Londoner’s Monday morning curse lol. I began to steer off, and da da da…! The car broke down and everything switched off and indeed I became the recipient of many colourful things that morning.

I had no idea what had just happened. I tried turning the key, but the engine didn’t start back up. I pressed every button I could see… nothing. My car was in a coma. I was so new to driving that I wasn’t even with a breakdown service :/ Cars behind me began to pile up in a traffic jam and since I had so intelligently attempted to go into a side road, I had almost blocked oncoming traffic too! I called my brother and told him what happened. ‘Seriously?!’ he shouted lol. ‘Ok, I’m coming right now!’ He immediately left the house and drove out of our road, only to meet the largest queue of cars on the main road. It was official… I had created the biggest traffic in West London, probably extending all the way to Heathrow Airport.

I refused to get out of the car, partly out of embarrassment and partly out of disbelief at the situation. Instead, I locked the doors and windows and sat low in my seat, as quiet as a mouse. Really, I didn’t know what else I was supposed to do. I wouldn’t dare attempt pushing the car – not in an ‘abayah and cute shoes anyway. And Lord knows if someone would get abusive at me. However, after a few minutes, I realized I had to do something because people were getting frustrated, and that’s not a good thing. So I sat up, rolled down the windows and somehow directed traffic right there from my seat. It was very funny. Amazing how much you can communicate with humans using limb signals. Luckily, my car was quite small so drivers were able to swerve around it in both directions.

On that eventful Monday morning, I learnt about the different personality types that exist in human beings. A few people got out of their cars to help me, and they generalized the personality types:

The DIY guy: He was in a large truck behind me and when he realized I wasn’t going anywhere, he got out and peered into my car.

“What’s the matter, love?” He said in a typical Londoner accent.
“Erm, my car’s broken down,” I explain.
“That’s because the engine’s off. You need to put the key in and turn it on.”

Now, I know it’s early morning, but come on I am awake! Being polite, I say, “Yes, I know, I took the keys out because the car’s broken down.”
“No love, put the keys in, that’s how it works.” I’m not even joking, that was his advice.
I wasn’t in the mood to convince him otherwise, so I put the keys in and turned it on, and lo and behold! Nope, nothing. The engine gave a spluttering, dying sound, and then faded into the abyss.
What was funny though was the man’s reaction. He honestly looked puzzled, completely bewildered. Slowly he began walking backwards with his hands up in the air in full retreat. He was basically telling me to sort it out myself, hence why I unequivocally and unashamedly call him the DIY guy.

Then came the next lady. Let’s call her:

The one who forgot to have breakfast: To give her credit, she was actually the ONLY person to offer to push the car for me. NO-ONE else did. However, she was a little on the angry side (I guess at the situation and traffic).

So she screams from her car, “Are you broken down, hunny?!”
“Yes,” I mime back. (Hoping she’d lower her voice)
“Oh Lord!” she exclaims before literally jumping out of her car. “Put the car into Neutral and I’ll push from the back!” She was still shouting.
Unfortunately as I said before, I don’t know cars very well and thus began looking for a button that said, ‘Neutral’. I now fully accept responsibility for my stupidity (I drive an automatic and never learnt beyond Drive and Reverse). But a strange thing happened while I was busy looking for this elusive ‘button’. The woman began instructing another driver on the road to move back in order to create space for my car to be pushed through. However, she was still shouting. So the driver, a little old Chinese lady (I love the Chinese, their ways are so gangsta) simply rolled up her window, pursed her lips tight and completely blanked Shouting Lady. And that’s how Shouting Lady got into a fight with the Silent Chinese. She must’ve forgotten why she got out of her car in the first place because after she was done fighting and shouting, she went straight back in her car and drove off. Always have breakfast in the morning, people. Always.

Then came The Opportunist: After a good 45mins of mayhem and my ‘People Watching’ as well as ‘Traffic Wardening’, I heard a thud on the boot. It was my brother, he finally arrived alhamdulillah. He put the car into Neutral (did it himself while I ‘aha’ed at the discovery), and began pushing it off the road while I steered. Just as we were doing that, a man hops over from the other side of the road.

“Do you need help?” He says.
“Yeah mate,” my brother replied. “If you can just take that side, we’ll push the car-”
The man cut him off by pulling out something from his pocket, “Here, this is my card, I’m the mechanic from the garage just over there. Call me sometime.” And just like that, he was gone.
“What!” was my initial reaction. “Nooo he didn’t.” My brother chucked the card to the floor, murmuring under his breath and continued pushing the car. That was so not slick.

The rest of the personality types that I saw that day varied. You had:

– The rolling-eyes woman. She had an internal timer cued to roll eyes every 2mins.
– The smart guy who tries to find a shortcut through the traffic and instead raises everyone’s blood pressure because he got stuck.
– The smart guy who actually found a shortcut.
– The typical Brit at the opposite bus stop who found a new thing to complain about besides the weather.
– While stuck in traffic beside me, the woman who looked everywhere except at me (these gave me a chuckle – I resisted the urge to wave at them).
– The introvert in a dilemma. I could almost hear their thoughts: ‘Shall I get out to help her and risk being seen by the world? No, don’t help her, stay in the car!’
– The LBC Fan who I’m sure reported me to that abysmal radio station

But the moral of the story is… If a miskina young lady comes to buy a car off you and she does her basic checks, at least tell her the car has a failing alternator. Please tell her. Lest she creates traffic and learns many philosophies in life all in just 1 hour of a cloudy Monday morning.

PS. ^ My next car insha’Allah. So that people will rush to help me when needed, as I know deep down inside they’re expecting Batman. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to wear my semi-Batman ‘abayah so they’re not completely heartbroken. 😀

Next up on the Chronicles of a Fairly-New Driver: The day I got my first parking ticket.