Driver's License.

We spend an average total of 4 to 5 hours a day in the car with our drivers. My friends and I share drivers, since we usually all go to the same place at any given time anyway. In the car, our drivers each are privy to our secrets and gossip-mongering, and sometimes, they even like to join in the Sex and The City discussion.

We sometimes ask them to cash our checks, so they know how much we earn. They know when we've run out of cigarettes or gum (and what brands we buy); they know which restaurant we like and where we buy our clothes, shoes, bags, books, and coffee; they know when we're not in the mood to chit-chat or if we're PMS-ing (everyone has iPods on); they know which ex-boyfriends we are in good terms with, and which ones are classholes; they know to pass down the tissue when the only time we have alone to cry our pathetic tears is in the car on the way to our destinations.

We're pretty lucky that our drivers are not sleazy, or generally disrespectful. Maybe our future (ex?) boyfriends and husbands should meet these drivers.

Maybe it's all just pathetic.