I’m 30. And I can’t drive. Or should I say forgotten how to drive properly. It’s my new thing. Here’s the story…
I spent the majority of my sophomore year of high school counting down the days until my 16th birthday would arrive. I carefully marked off the days on my calendar as I anticipated my long awaited freedom. Finally, on Wednesday February 21, 1996 the clouds parted and the heavens opened. My license picture was better than most. I wore my favorite Guess sweatshirt and my smile (just got my braces off a year earlier) was perfect. The driving I did to obtain my new “privilege” was less than perfect, but I passed. And that was all that mattered to me. I was free.
Free to back into the fence in the school parking lot. Free to get the mirror knocked off my mom’s car in front of Dairy Queen. Free to drive all the way from Jordan’s house to mine with the parking brake on. Free to run off the road and flip my car. Free to get a speeding ticket on my 18th birthday. I’m not proud.
Except for one speeding ticket, I have been a meticulous driver since then. I was told by a certain driver’s ed teacher that it was okay to brake with my left foot since I was a lefty. No one else (and by no one else, I mean Matt) seems think it’s safe. So, I have slowly but surely learned how to brake without using my left foot. I had a horrible habit of slowing down without noticing when I would talk while driving and then floor it when I did realize what I was doing. So, I have learned to use cruise to increase gas mileage. It snows like no ones business here and snowdrifts get taller than my car. So I have unwillingly learned how to plow through snow like I am skiing down the Alps. But lately, I’ve forgotten what my dad taught me when I sat on his lap as a child and drove home from grandma and grandpas house. Memories of a certain high school boyfriend yelling at me to speed up, use my turn signal, and make complete stops have faded. I have become a total ditz when it comes to commuting. It’s not my fault though.
During my 14 year driving career I have always driven cars; Sable, 1st Probe, 2nd Probe, Cavalier, and Sentra…all small cars. I drove Matt’s Sierra a couple times here and there with no harm done. Last year, Matt traded his truck for a Chevy Traverse. After a short training session on how to maneuver a larger automobile I became a pro at driving a crossover. This year, Matt (against my wishes) traded in the Traverse for a Yukon. Again, after a short training session, the Yukon became my weekend friend. Last month (thanks to a shorter commute to work) it became my best friend. Although my feet don’t touch the floor and I cannot see over the hood, we’ve had tons of fun together. In 4 weeks we have killed and animal or two or three or four. I cry every time. We have smashed a shopping cart. I couldn’t see it. And this weekend we murdered pumpkins that were supposed to go to Marshall students. Again, I couldn’t see. It’s not that I am losing my sight or not paying attention to the world around me. I’m just too short to be driving something so big. That’s my excuse anyway.
It's my new thing. I am a horrible driver, but I am working on it. Watch out Terre Haute drivers, Ang will be on the road in 11 minutes.
