Not driving never bothered me. As a teenager, and twenty-something my friends were happy to pick me up and drive me around in exchange for jokes, my driving advice, and sometimes ciggarettes. As an older, but still twenty something living in urban areas where public transportation won over driving, I simply didn’t need to. And once I had the popette I still walked everywhere – I just carried more stuff.
But now we live in the country, and I want to drive. I have pretty graphic daydreams where my kid and I are driving on country roads, with indie rock blasting, and all the time in the world and there’s only one thing stopping me from passing this dream: my lisence. So I have been trying to get my permit, so I can practice on said country roads for 3 months until I’m official, and can drive with dogs, babies, friends, whoever! Trying is the key word, today I failed for the second time in a row.
Do you know how mad I am? The test, if I might say, is ludicrous! And you know what? I’m not only saying that because I’m pretty pissed, it really is. Instead of asking questions about DRIVING they asked me about 10 about what times a sixteen year old can drive at. Like I care. Note: I also could have studied and memorized these, but I didn’t. Another question I got wrong: what are signs of drunk driving? Weaving, stopping, or speeding or all of the above…well jee, since mostly everyone stops and speeds I’ll go with weaving. When I’m wasted, I walk and weave so I’d probably do the same while driving, right?
Wrong. Apparently drunk drivers, stop, speed, and weave. But. But? I almost got on my hands and knees to beg for my permit, because really I know how to signal with my hand, and who has the right away, and how many feet behind a stop sign to park but I just suck at knowing that a 16 year old can’t drive past midnight…but I didn’t, I just kind of frowned and went to Mcdonalds.
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