Librería Samer Atenea
Librería Aciertas (Toledo)
Kálamo Books
Librería Perelló (Valencia)
Librería Elías (Asturias)
Donde los libros
Librería Kolima (Madrid)
Librería Proteo (Málaga)
Before you start reading my story, I should explain its purpose. In 2010, when I was twenty-three years old, I wrote this book because I had undergone significant mental stress regarding how I believe I should drive. It was my way of embarking on a quest to determine appropriate driving conduct when I am behind the wheel, and the only way I could discover that was by writing down the history of my driving escapades. It is important that you read this book while trying to imagine yourself inside a twenty-three-year-old male’s head. I am completely honest in telling all the facts as I remember, along with how I felt about them. Frankly, my driving has been so offensive and outrageous in both good and bad ways, according to everyone who has driven with me over the years, that the tales seem worth telling. Or at least you can be the judge of that. Many people dedicate their books to people, but I’d like to dedicate this driving memoire to a conversation between my dad and me. It took place during one of the many drives home from a family day trip to the sprawling countryside of Amish farms and tourist attractions dotting Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I was elementary school age and was waking from my nap.
