Strongly Worded

Fear Factor

So, have I told you lately that I love my adorable "new" car? I think so. Said car (who I think I'll name Sybil) is now sporting an inspection sticker AND a PERMIT PARKING STICKER, a joy you can only appreciate if you live in the Greater Boston Parking War Zone. As I write this, Sybil's cute little self is undergoing some extremely expensive repairs, including rear new tires and tire alignment. The jury is out on whether tire alignment is actually necessary, or whether the earnest guy at Firestone has just talked me out of about $200 more than I expected to spend (at least I held fast and turned down his offer of a “fuel flushing” procedure and a “buy three, get one free” tire sale).

But I digress. Today I had planned to make the pilgrimage to Ikea, the Mecca of Affordable Scandinavian Furniture. I had planned to take the day off and partake in their fabulous service concept, along with my friend R.., an experienced Ikea shopper.

But when I map-quested the drive yesterday, I discovered that I’d have to take some combination of several equally horrifying roadways in order to get there: Rte 128, the Mass Pike, the McGrath Highway, or Memorial Drive. Even with my new cute car and my intense Ikea desires, I completely panicked.

I once attempted the two-mile drive from my apartment to the Home Depot off one of these roads, bolstered by false confidence and “simple” mapquest directions. I arrived without a hitch, but on my way back, I got snarled into a tangle of highways, darkness, angry motorists, and confusion. Somehow, despite my tears and pounding heart, I managed to get home in one piece.

It’s been over a year, and I still haven’t ventured in that direction. My supportive friends acknowledge that this particular patch of highway is really horrible, and that if I can drive there, I can drive anywhere. They also praise the progress I’ve made thus far (driving fairly successfully around MetroWest and also making multiple trips to my hometown on the admittedly sleepy State Highway). I have conquered Harvard Square and even Central Square.

But I still feel like a big loser. Even with my own car and a year of driving on my belt, I’m still too scared to drive to Ikea. I get this fear from my mom, who’s been driving for over 40 years, and still fears driving from our small hometown to the Hartford airport, the local hospital, Boston, and almost anywhere outside her immediate environs. I don’t want to be like that.

But Ikea beckons, so R. and I are planning to go next weekend. I’ll drive to her house (actually no small feat), and then she’ll drive the rest of the way.

Posted by Dori at 12:17 PM