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Stay in Your Own Lane

The backseat driver (BSD), the Co-Trainer.  They get on my nerves.  Immensely.  Let me give you some examples of what I’m driving at, oh, backseat driver.

  1. Earlier this year, I was working with Ukrainian refugees, speaking to them in Russian.  Backseat driver reprimanded me for speaking to the refugees “in the enemy’s language.”  I wrote BSD a lengthy email about the Holodomor, comparative Slavonic philology and even a British rock group called The Ukrainians.  BSD’s reply: “I still think you’re wrong.”
  2. Today was a mutual friend’s birthday.  BSD asked me three time how old she was.  Thrice I politely declined to answer.  It’s bad manners to ask how old a lady is.  Does this need to stated to stop the fisherwife/Wascherweib questions.
  3. This month, following extensive consultation with my GP, Schatz (who has a good idea about medicine) and a consultant diabetologist, I had my medication changed, with short-term side-effects.  BSD bombarded me with unsolicited “advice” based on his googling medical research.  Finally I told BSD, “With all due respect, BSD, you are neither a doctor, nor in any way, shape or form, do you have any medical expertise on this matter.”

Long live staying in your own lane!


By Samuel Peeps Dairyist

I am a Dairyist. I like typos. I live on Planet Earth.

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