Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Thumbs Up? Nope. Thumbs down.

A rite of passage in every teenage suburban life occurs when they take receive their drivers license. Mandatory classes after school with a science teacher that had difficulty pronouncing his r’s, so when he’d say ‘rules of the road’ it would come out ‘wools of the woad’. Hours spent driving with an instructor with a penchant for Dunkin' Donuts, and would make you, the student, drive to Dunks and wait while he'd buy two (TWO!) crullers and coffee. The smell of a Medium Regular and the cruller were enough to drive off the road.  Let's not forget the actual driving test. 

Ah, the drivers test. The closest DMV to my hometown was about 25 minutes away. Staties (Masshole speak for state troopers) administered the vehicular exam. Joy. As if having a burly and probably miserable Statie next to me wasn't enough stress, let's add Adrienne in the back seat. 
No matter what anyone says, staties give everyone fucking heart attacks. Sure, they're there to serve and protect--blah blah blah; yet there is a distinct odor of condescension surrounding their being. From the moment we got in the car, my knees were shaking so terribly I could hardly feel the pedals. Everything was going fine, (well, as fine as can be expected considering a man that seemed to think dressing up like an SS officer 365 days of the year was sitting to my right and my mother was in the back seat trying her best to not say anything...which for Adrienne is like, the biggest challenge of all time...) 
I was passing the test when the statie asked me to complete one more task of backing up in a straight line. I was focusing on accomplishing the task at hand, when the nazi exclaimed: stop the car, miss. What? What did I do? Nothing. Ma'am: (to my mother in back) you were coaching your daughter. This test is ended, you have failed. What?! I cried---I didn't even see her! I was only giving her a thumbs up! my midwestern mother whimpered. No matter. All her pleading made the evil man's resolve strengthen. 
My mother cried the whole way home while I just stared out the window. I was consoling her! Don't worry, mom. It's ok. No really, I'm fine. Know when you're so angry you can't cry? Yeah. 

Who should I be angrier with? My mother trying to give me a stupid thumbs up or the fact that I exclaimed to everyone at school why I was going to be late. Just kidding! I failed because of Midwestern enthusiasm!
3 weeks later I got my license. In Lynn. The cop asked me to take a drive around the block. And that time, my father went with me. 
Listen up, kiddos: going in for a driver's license? Superglue your parents' hands to their goddamn pants.

1 comment:

  1. Dude, I legitimately almost ran someone over during my driving test in Lynn and STILL passed. Poor Margaret's mama.