I 
have always dreamed, since I was a little girl, that I would have an autonomous car. A self-driving car that follows my precise orders. I would lie comfortably on the seat in the interior of the car, which would be round, of course, because I don’t like sharp edges, reading a book, listening to music or looking out the car window.
Terrible backwardness, that thing of driving! What a lot of stress, what a waste of time and energy! And how dangerous! Powerless and at the mercy of our own errors and, what is even worse, of those of wild, reckless, crazy drivers’ crossing our path.
I want to program its computer system in advance to automatically go to some place. My dear intelligent car will take the wheel and get me to my chosen destination safe and sound. I don’t even feel like directing it with my voice, because that would still force me to be alert. AND I WANT TO AVOID DRIVING AN AUTOMOBILE LIKE THE PLAGUE, just as if I travelled by plane or train. I want to wash my hands, like Pontius Pilatus. I don’t want to know anything about it. I want to use my time for other activities, more pleasant and gratifying. Wasting some time of my life shaking the gear shift back and forth with my right hand (with much difficulty), and at the same time gripping the steering wheel tightly with the left one (until my knuckles go white) is something I really don’t like. It makes me very anxious. Let alone the trunk, which avoiding the wooden sense that this word has, becomes a granitic rock, so petrified I get in the event of a two-car, head-on collision. A mounted bullfighter could pierce me at his leisure with his lance and I wouldn’t blink.
Better not to speak about the lower limbs. With the three damned pedals that non-automatic cars have, automobile mechanics laughs wildly at human anatomy. 
Clutch, brake and accelerator pedals. I push down on the clutch pedal with my left foot, so far so good. But what about the right foot? How can it possibly be in two places at the same time? On the brake and on the accelerator pedals. It cannot carry out two mutually incompatible actions at the same time. I need a third foot to drive in the traditional way. I cannot give a correct order to my right foot. I can’t always decide what to do in a fraction of a second: push the brake or the accelerator. So, I start pushing on the first pedal I find, like crazy. I generally search for the brake pedal, which sets me to safe ground: it stops the car. But submerged into this chaos of confusion, I don’t always push the right pedal, and I very often push just the opposite. This hysterical pedal pushing has put me in danger quite a few times. But don’t be afraid, my dear readers. Good sense has finally triumphed and it’s been long since I last drove a car, my only means of transportation is my bike now (I ride my bike on the bike lanes and on the sidewalk too).
So, I dream that the day should come when that automated robotic car is sold at a good price. Will I be too old when I can eventually buy it? I DON’T CARE. That is my least concern. As I will live to be a hundred (because I eat a lot of eggs), I will spend my later, senile years travelling the world in total independence.