A joy ride I'll never forget | Entertainment/Life – The Advocate

My cousin borrowed her daddy’s just-out-the-showroom 1954 Cadillac convertible, painted unmistakable lipstick red for a joy ride down Canal Boulevard. We were 13 years old and knew everything about everything. But just in case, before we jumped in, I asked, “Do you know how to drive?”
“You’re such a goody-two-shoes pain,” she said, almost as if I was insulting her. “Of course, I know how to drive. I’ve been driving for years. I have the keys.” She dangled them in front of me for validation.
I didn’t care if she knew how to drive or not. The words were hardly out of her mouth when I sunk into the plush white leather seats and watched as she started the engine, put the car in gear
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