Thing 12: You have just swallowed your pride and done something you didn't want to do. Your friend wants to know why. The two of you are driving around an almost-full parking garage looking for a space for the friend's oversized pickup. Write the scene.

Originally posted to Facebook on June 6th, 2013. I'm not particularly pleased with how it turned out, but you can't in every time.

This passage contains some strong language. Reader discretion is advised.

Thing 12: You have just swallowed your pride and done something you didn't want to do. Your friend wants to know why. The two of you are driving around an almost-full parking garage looking for a space for the friend's oversized pickup. Write the scene.

"This is so friggen illegal..."

I carefully eased the behemoth vehicle through the dimly-lit parking garage. I had hoped that it would be emtpy, but it was nearly full. Finding a parking space sufficiently large for a truck of this size would be no easy feat for an experienced driver. I didn't even have my license.

Harry, sitting in the passenger seat, waved his hand weakly in my direction. "Nah man, s'ok," he slurred, obviously intoxicated. "Lemme drive."

The scowl on my face grew deeper. "I'm not letting you drive, you drunk fuck."

Harry's laugh was cur short by a hiccough. after taking a deep swallow to collect his thoughts, he sat up in his chair and tried again. "Dude, you can't even drive. Here, I got dis..."

Seeing his hand reach for the steering wheel, I flew into a rage. I slammed on the gas to push him back against his seat, then slammed on the breaks, causing his whole body to roughly collide with the dashboard. He let out a slow, pained groan.

"Oh you've got this, do you?" The words were spat viciously through clenched teeth. "You can barely stand, you can barely speak, and yet you want t operate a heavy vehicle, putting the lives and property of you and all those around you in danger?!"

Harry fought to compose himself. "Hey, calm--"

"CALM DOWN!?" I had unbuckled my seat belt at this point. I leaned over and grabbed him by the collar to ensure he was looking me in the eye as I fumed. "I'm not going to calm the fuck down! If you want to drink that poison, that's fucking fine, but there's no goddamn way I am going to let you in front of the wheel of this or any other car."

Harry laughed, seemingly unaware of my white knuckles on his shirt. "Thissss is a truck!"

"Don't try and get smart with me you piece of shit!" The veins in my neck and forehead seemed ready to burst, and steam began to rise from my head as my burning rage smouldered. Were I capable of becoming any more angry I likely would have burst into flame.

For the first time of the ride, our eyes met. For the first time, Harry saw the depths of my rage. My eyes burned dark holes into his as neither of us blinked, and the drunken smile on his face melted away, replaced by a look of abject fear. The only sounds were the low rumble of the engine and my heavy breathing.

A single tear rolled down Harry's cheek. His voice was shaky as he apologized.

Slowly, my rage subsided, its embers quietly smouldering at the base of my sour disposition. I let out a sigh of frustration as I pushed Harry back into his seat.

"Let's just get this over with," I said, my exasperation clear. "Let's get you home."