enjoying the foliage

you drive me crazy – the story of my licensing

Posted on: Friday, March 7, 2008

Today I learned three things:

1) The alphabet, numbers up to ten, and basic words in sign language – this was with the autistic boy I work with. Love it – one of those things I wish I had time for during my school year, but will have to wait until the summer when I am…just as busy.

2)  That the rear window on my car is equipped with windshield washer fluid, and how to take advantage of this.

3) That if I pulled the signal flicker thing towards me my highbeams would flash.

One of the first things you need to know about me, is that I am the worst driver ever. Also that I have had my car for nearly a full six months, and while I have not yet hit anything other than snowbanks with it (fingers crossed), I am still learning how it works.

I got my G1 when I was seventeen at the urging of my parents, and began driver’s ed six months later for the same reasons. Living in the suburbs of Mississauga and being unlikely to have a car at my disposal (or parents patient enough to let me have one in my hot little hands), I was apathetic about learning the skill – something I’m sure every teenager but me looked forward to. My lack of interest in driving was only reinforced by having an “altercation”, shall we say, with a cyclist and my driving instructor in the car.

It should have been evident at this point, with the my combination of delayed reaction time and poor spatial skills, that the practice of being encased in metal and glass and moving with other expensive wheeled pods at excessively high speeds was not for me. Like a champ, I allowed the cyclist to skirt the bumper of my car and escape with his life, and finished the rest of my driving lessons without incident. My parents saw no need to assist me in practicing driving after my lessons (I wonder why), and I did not touch the wheel of a car for the next two years, after which I began to take another crack at this whole “getting my license” thing. I learned to drive for the second time on the back roads between Guelph and Mississauga during the summer I turned twenty. Learning to drive with my mother, an emotionally fragile puddle of hysterics and hysterics-induced nicotine addiction, if nothing else, increased the sense of calm about what I over time came to see as my inevitable torturous death in a fiery twisted car wreck. Nevertheless, and to the chagrin of my mother (who had her will redrawn at a similar time) we all survived the summer, and I signed up for a G2 test in early September. Through some miracle of a benevolent driving tester (hill park: “um, do YOU know where my emergency brake is?” – true story) and to everyone’s disbelief, I passed on the first try and was promised a car the next day. Princess that I am was fully displeased about spending four hours a day on the shitty Guelph transit system and drove by herself for the first time three weeks later in an (almost) brand new car.

I’ve been on your roads ever since. Vroom vroom.

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1 Response to "you drive me crazy – the story of my licensing"

I’ve yet to see you and your pimp ride yet. I demand a visit. Things are up in the air about whether I’m in Mississauga or K-town this summer still. Most likely, I’ll be back in the Saug exercising authoritarian powers with a polite smile.

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