i Have to commence with something that happened last year about August. At the time we didn't know we were moving to Stinkin' Edge of the Pond, NC. My dad wanted desperately to just get my license out of the way with and have me out and about as soon as P. But, i was afraid that if we moved my permit wouldn't work elsewhere. So we held back at the last second. The very last. My dad was ready to plunk down this large [horrendous, too big to comprehend] sum and i said, "Ehh, maybe not Dad." Whew, thank You, God!
Fast forward a few, and here we are in NC. My sister and i enrolled. (Oh, apologies. Not Driver's Ed, sorry to get your hopes up. If you know me, than you know that i'm older than that old burned down shack that won't cave all the way in and is burned right into your mind and now you really are perturbed that i reminded you of this structure that's in that boring field and you now probably want to go raise it to the ground yourself; well, who's stopping you? i Should have my license by now, but i'm afraid you're mistaken. -nose pokes through cage-) We were thoroughly "educated" one can be sure of that. -nose sprouts tree branches- We really enjoyed Red Asphalt III (1989) and could only imagine what quality filming and script writing that Red Asphalt IV (1998) would bring for our grand-kids. (If you think i'm exaggerating about the times these incredibly instructional videos were released, "Think again." As the line is said in one too many movies over and over when there is a vicious panda bear and one is "instructing" another to reevaluate climbing into its cage.) Our teacher was was one of great barbarian character. She was a hulking mass of trucker woman that did not in fact drive 18 wheeled vehicles but instead focused her attention on a Harley and a Ford GT i believe. She made us watch Wild Hogs (2007, starring Tim Allen). Mind you, this film is smothered in driving directions and how to pay attention to your surroundings so it was especially good for Driver's Ed. If you have yet to see this pleasant film, i would encourage you to go spend at least $6 to rent it at your local Blockbuster. It really is worth every bit of tax you must pay in your state, so don't drive all the way to a library to pick it up. A must-see to be sure. The driver instructor was someone completely different and prized himself in making my sister and i look like utter fools.
He was from New York, and his dialect definitely portrayed this. i Am grateful for him though because he taught me well --enough. The three point turn was a complete disaster, but besides this minor trial, it was a success. He liked classic rock and this was normally played while we dodged trees, careened out of control barely missing stop signs, and were quite jovial about the whole concept, naturally. We were both beginners to the entire subject, however we were traveling at 60 mph our first day. For now, i must "skip to the end" as Prince Humperdinck so annoyingly states.
After having too many bouts with the mother or the father in the passenger's seat, having a horrible accident in a ditch (life flashing by very quickly), and arguing about when i could drive or my younger sister, or a particular dad, four months later Wednesday the 31st i was going to go for it. I didn't think i had much of a chance, but people told me you can take it again 48 hours later. However, the town that i had to gallivant over to was a good 40 minute drive. $$x10 If you get my meaning.
It was really a life and death matter to be sure. i Wanted to pass so badly. i Hadn't had much three point turn practice and wasn't sure if they were going to test me on parallel parking or not. My three point turn practice consisted of three or four attempts with my mom and one awful one with the instructor before i had my permit. It was nothing short of a calamity and i was dreading this part of the test as i had to take it in a mini-van. (Yes. i Did.)
i Got out of school at 11:15 (early-release --no third and fourth period) and was off to the small city with my dad. The drive there was nothing short of terrible. i Was so preoccupied with worrying myself sick about the test i ran one........drove, excuse me, fast and kept having to release the gas because i came close to hit-- Oh, never you mind. We arrived, and walked into the DMV. It was overflowing with people and some that shouldn't have been in there at all. Old and middle aged, dirty and smelly, stifling and unbearable, it clung to my skin and filled my proboscis with quite an odor. After realizing we had come at everyone's lunch hour and there was only one on staff, we weren't sure if the long drive up wouldn't be futile.
We got to the counter and the lady asked for my proof of insurance for the car. They naturally can't test anyone without this because what would happen if i'm in a wreck and don't have any of my own insurance on the car? i Better do a lot of Bible study as my dad would say. Going back to the car, my dad made a phone call to the agency to add me to the list as well as send DMV proof of this act.
But oh no, guess what? The lady was out for.... (Yes) Lunch!! Another hour or so and we got the call saying it had been sent. Hooray. We got our ticket number for when the DMV was ready to see me and when i was called i strolled and stumbled on over to the appropriate desk.
But oh no, guess what! It had not been faxed. Another phone call later and maybe 30 minutes and it finally had been. i Was off to the desk again and then in the car checking the lights and horn with this mean looking snake.. Pardon, woman.
We took off and as i come to a stop right outside the parking lot to the DMV, a truck is about 800 feet away with his blinker on, turning right, right where i was stopped. Ah, perfect. He will be turning in where i'm turning right so it's all fine and dandy, no sweat. What a surprise when he pulled up right behind me almost hitting my bumper. This was good, really swell. Tried to not think about how i just failed, and would be turning back into the parking lot any second as i kept on puttering away. We "hung" a left onto a dead end road and the nerves suddenly built up as i realized this was where the dreaded "Three-Point-Turn" shall commence. Skipping ahead, i did it. Flawed, but accomplished. i Pulled over to the right, checked mirrors, proceeded to turn the wheel to the left and begin turning when i realized, there is no way to successfully make this a "Three" point-turn. Yes. It was four.
She said real solemn like, "Okay, let's go back." Leaving no room to wonder if she sighed with great remorse, or was happy and was pleased with me. i Drove back and before i knew it (without any warning like, "Congrats!! You may just make it out there!") she was saying, "You did fine, honey. Just make sure you don't assume things like when that guy had his blinker on..."
There i was, saying i was under six feet tall, still blond and strange eyed.. Blue, i mean. And i was getting a ridiculous picture with my silly face as the center of the photograph.
The day wasn't over yet. The sun was out as well that day.
i Got to peddle around the quiet neighborhood as well as drive my sister and i to youth group. What tunes played joyfully through out the car on the way there? Well, none other than that great Owl City and all its joyful bleeps and bloops, that's what.
So concludes this mournful tale. i Hope you were not too lachrymose throughout its entirety, and if so... There is not much i can do about it.
