My Project: 365 Creative Writing Prompts
Day 40: Getting your driver’s license
Ever since I became a teenager I wanted to drive a car and I couldn’t wait for my 18th birthday.
Dad promised that he would teach me to drive. As soon as I was legally allowed, I could take my place behind the wheel and he would take me on the road.
Unfortunately, two weeks before my 18th birthday my parents bought a new car and while dad was still willing to teach me to drive, I chickened out. I would have been fine driving the old car, but this brand new one … no, no way. Suppose something happened to it.
The years passed and I was already well into my twenties when my ex-husband suddenly decided that it was time I learned how to drive. One fine Sunday afternoon we got into the car, he drove to a secluded spot, got out of the driver’s seat and suggested that I take his place.
In my hands, the car hopped rather than drove and for the next twenty minutes the only words coming out of my ex’s mouth were “Give gas, give gas, give gas!”
Once I had the starting and stopping down it was time to actually drive and I tell ya … I was terrified.
For my fifth driving lesson, I was to drive us to a friend’s house and this usually 20-minute trip took me 45 minutes to complete. I drove at a snail pace and every time a car approached, I thought I was going to hit it.
Upon arrival, my shirt was soaked with sweat.
Everything changed when September came around and I had to drive my son to school. Instead of driving only on Sundays, I had to drive every day, twice a day and that made all the difference. Within a week I was a confident driver.
Next, it was time to take my driver’s exam. I got full marks for the theory test, but the practical exam left much to be desired. My driving was fine, my three-point turn was fine, but where it came to parallel parking I flunked.
I had to wait two months before I could take the exam again, and again I flunked. That parallel parking didn’t agree with me. After another two month wait, I went back, on my birthday as it happened, and the driving instructor recognized me.
Once again the parallel parking was a disaster, but this time I put up a fight.
“You seem very nervous,” the instructor said.
“It’s because of you,” I told him. “When I’m alone in the car or with my husband, my parking is just fine, but now that I have to prove this to you, it just doesn’t work.”
“Alright,” he said. “I’m gonna go get a coffee, you keep practicing.”
So I did. I practiced parallel parking on the right side and the left side of the road and each time it went perfectly.
When the instructor came back he told me to drive straight to the office.
“What about my parallel parking that you told me to practice?” I asked him.
“I’ve seen enough,” he said. “I’ve been watching you from behind the window and you’re more than qualified to get your license.”
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