my midnight drive with karma

I drove in my car down the Long Island Expressway at midnight. The desolate roads transformed into a peaceful paradise, and a picturesque scene formed. You would feel like a thriving movie protagonist driving down the silent streets in your personal haven. It was blissful.

But I hated it.

This was last Thursday night, where I’d normally be in bed by 9:30. I had to wake up at 5:30 the next morning, yet I embarked on a 25 minute trip to a town I had never seen.

The Saturday before this happened, I went to a party at my friend’s house. The trip only takes 10 minutes, but driving to the opposite side of town makes it feel like a 30 minute trek.

I needed a ride home, so I called my dear sister and told her to come at midnight. Part of me wanted to stay longer, but she had already agreed to pick me up, and I didn’t want to push her limits.

So, when Thursday came around, it was my turn to do the driving.

My sister went to a friend’s house 25 minutes away. That’s a longer drive than I ever asked of her, so she immediately agitated me with this demand. No piece of me wanted to waste an hour of my night driving around Long Island.

But we compromised.

My younger brother agreed to pick her up, so I only had to drop her off there at nine. I still took a while to agree to this, but I owed her a ride. I’d still be home by 10 and wouldn’t lose too much sleep...

But my parents didn’t like that idea. My brother has only had his license for a few months, so they didn’t want him to be driving in the lightless night to a town he didn’t know.

When I heard them discussing this, I sat on the chair in the other room, fingers crossed, praying that they would see my little brother as a big boy and let him take that midnight drive…

But that never happened. I went from having drop-off duty to pick-up duty.

My sister told me to get her at midnight. Then she said to make it 12:15. Then, she told me 12:30, and I had enough.

I said I'd leave at 11:45, no matter what. In my head, I justified that the drive was already farther than any I’d ever make her take for me. And I would never make her pick me up if I knew she had to wake up a few hours later.

So, there I was. Driving down the LIE at midnight, blasting my Spanish music with the windows rolled down...

I missed out.

The ride could have been a stunning, serene stroll across Long Island. But the pessimism clouding my thoughts blinded me from that.

I miserably reached the house at 12:08. The marina rested to my left and the one-inch shoulder to my right. I literally parked my car in the middle of the road because I knew my sister would be walking down the driveway any second...

Then it was 12:13. My sister needed five minutes to respond to my “Outside” text, and her response was golden…

“Be out in a minute”

Once she sent that message, a rush of guilt raced through my mind. I realized something that I had been denying the entire car ride over…

Back when my sister picked me up that Saturday, she arrived at midnight. She sent me the classic “Outside” text. And I said to her, “Be out in a minute.”

But I didn’t go outside in a minute. See, I don’t like Irish goodbyes. Before leaving parties, I prefer to make my rounds and say a genuine goodbye to everyone I talked to that night.

For that party, I had to say goodbye to at least 30 people. So I needed ten minutes as opposed to one.

By the time I got in the car, my sister was unfazed. She didn’t mind waiting the extra time. We just drove off as if she had waited one minute.

Whenever you say something like “Oh yeah, just give me one minute…” you know it will never be just one minute.

We’ve encountered those words enough to understand one minute is more like five to ten minutes.

So, when my sister sent me that “Be out in a minute” text, I realized she is just like me.

I wasn’t just picking her up from a late night out with friends. In a sense, I was picking myself up from a late night out with friends. Karma had come back to me. After all the times I needed to be picked up, it was my turn to drive.

No matter how much I hate driving in the middle of the night (and getting only four hours) to be my family’s personal Uber driver, they do the same for me. The rides they give me are something I’ve taken advantage of over the last few years.

I realize that I must do my part and drive across towns to pick them up when they need me.

When my sister got in the car 10 minutes after texting me, a bit of my impatience still lingered inside me. But by the time we were back on the highway, I discovered how to enjoy the blissful ride down the empty road.

With my music blasting and a smile on my face, I learned to enjoy moments like those. Because those little moments will appear in life again, and it’s better to enjoy those midnight drives with karma than detest them.