It's a very warm summer evening. Extraordinary warm for The Hague early June. A friend called me around ten p.m.
Friend: "Me and my brother are at a cafe in Scheveningen. Wanna join?"
We enjoyed our drinks at the seaside until the cafe was closed at two. We still didn't feel like going home, so we decided to check out a disco downtown.
Me: "Guys, you drank so much I'm not sure I trust your driving skills. May I drive?"
Friend: "Ask him, it's his car."
Brother: "Sure, you can drive."
Me: "What's the matter?"
Friend: "You are going to drive!"
Me: "Your brother doesn't mind."
Friend: "That's because he doesn't know."
Brother (alarmed): "Doesn't know what?"
Friend and me: "Nothing."
Brother (concerned): "Do you have a driver's licence?"
Brother (worried): "Can you drive?"
Me: "I have a driver's licence!"
Brother (still worried): "Yes, but can you drive?"
Me: "Give me the keys."
Anxious he handed over the keys.
Friend: "She has a Ukrainian driver's licence. You know, the one you can buy for one hundred US dollars."
Brother (in shock): "Really?!"
Me (very calm): "Do you have a problem with it?"
By that time I've settled in the car and changed the position of the seat and all the mirrors. My friend sat next to me, his brother sat at the back. I have a Dutch driver's license, but my driving skills are far from perfect. This was the third time this year I drove a car, after a stop of more than a year. While my friend was enjoying giving me directions, I could almost hear his brother's heart beating behind me. All three of us certainly didn't look like we had an ordinary ride when we got out of the car fifteen minutes later. I was glad I drove and concerned about how much energy it consumed. My friend was almost crying because he laughed so much.
Brother (with a great relief): "I have to pee!"