In today's society, driving is a life skill. Sure, you could probably get away with not knowing it if you lived in a big city and could take the bus everywhere, but for people who live in the suburbs, acquiring a full-fledged driver's license is a rite of passage growing up. However, actually getting that invaluable bit of identification is much easier said than done.
I really wanted to get my L, or more to the point, my N. I wanted to be able to drive myself places, instead of having to bum rides off of my parents and try to match their schedules to mine, which invariably never really worked. So, as soon as I could, after my 16th birthday, I took the test, got my L and crawled around some local residential streets at 5 km/hr in my mother's well-loved 20-year-old car. But that wasn't the fun part, oh no, nowhere near. The fun part was a few months down the road.
When Dad took me out for a driving lesson, I asked him where we were going.
"Looking for traffic."
Great. Just what every learning driver wants to hear. That was my first clue that this was going to be an... interesting trip. You know, there's a reason it's a curse to say, "May you live an interesting life".
So I cruised up 16th Ave, dodging pedestrians (I swear I didn't see that one with the dog! Just a little thumpthump...), to the Semiahmoo Mall area. Pedestrians and cars and turns - oh my! I was white-knuckled on the steering wheel, trying to look every way at once, yet completely missing all those pesky people on bikes. Who cares about bikers, anyway? They were asking for it anyway - randomly jumping out in front of the car and doing a little jig while I'm trying not to hit them (or was it 10 points for hitting them, 20 if I got two in a row?).
I finally made it out of that mess of traffic without too much damage to the car (even managed to shake that pesky police car - I'm still not sure why his lights were flashing) and went gliding down 152nd.
"So, Dad, where to now?" I asked. I still hadn't caught on to how much, er, fun, this little trip was going to be.
"Oh, just head down to 24th and turn right. Then go left at the next major intersection."
Okay. I wasn't too familiar with where that was, but I knew that was going further out than I had before. Then I got there and realized my mistake.
"Dad, isn't King George around here somewhere. Wait, what's that street up there? Isn't that... DAD! You're taking me on King George Highway!"
I would have pulled a U-ey right there, but you know all that construction they did there a while back? That big, nasty looking median and the lack of any sort of finished shoulder? Yeah, that kinda got in the way. Left without any sort of escape route, I made my way out onto the Highway, shaking like a leaf (yet somehow keeping the car going in a straight line - well, mostly).
Ai yai yai! The speed limit's 60? Oh, well, I supposed I could deal with that. At least until the - ahhh! Traffic light with cars and lanes and stuff! Don't hit that car ahead of you! Don't cut in front of that semi truck, most definitely without shoulder checking first!
Oh. Right. The cars ahead were moving. I supposed I should follow them. This wasn't so bad after all. I could deal with highways. Yup, I thought I could.
So, when dad asked me if I thought I was ready to go on Highway 99, I just assumed it would be like King George. They're both highways, right? Wrong. Very wrong.
I turned myself around in the Art Knapp's parking lot and trundled out onto the clover leaf to merge onto 99 heading south. Besides the car trying to flip over, I was good - until Dad told me to floor it.
"But I'm already going like 70!" I protested.
"Floor it."
Ohh. Maybe there is a difference between highways and Highways, if you catch my meaning. (I later learned that 99 is more of what you'd call a freeway, and King George is just a major road. Whose crazy naming scheme is this, anyway?!)
So I floored it, gripping the steering wheel until I thought it might break in my hands, staring hard enough to burn a hole through the windshield, and Mom's poor car gave its all. Right up a hill.
I looked at the speedometer: 85 km/hr. Isn't the speed limit 100 km/hr? Yup. Isn't going significantly slower than traffic dangerous? Yup. Right, push harder on the gas pedal. Wait, it's not going any further down. I guess there's a reason Mom always says her car doesn't have the get-up-and-go that modern cars have!
"Take the second exit on your right."
Okay. Exit, exit... Was that an exit I just passed? Oh dear, I think it was. Don't miss the next one - we don't want to go to Los Angeles!
By watching really hard, I managed to spot the next exit before we passed it, but it was a close one. Nobody actually cares about those grassy bits next to the road, right? Anyway, tire tracks add character!
Off the highway, safe and sound (or as close as I could get while still behind the wheel), I set to work prying my fingers off the wheel. I think some sort of chemical bonding had occurred.
With my fingers free, I poked at the wheel until it was pointed in the general direction of home. I wasn't taking any more of this - there was no way I was going to let Dad trick me into going on any more big, scary roads! Home was safe, and home I was going. Thankfully, Dad was observant enough to realize more driving like that would result in someone's loss of sanity, or life, or both. He gave in let me do what I wanted, except run over a row of oranges cones by the side of the road (5 points each!).
Home sweet home and several painkillers later, I collapsed on the couch and told Mom the whole story of my driving lesson.
"Yeah, dad took me down 16th, then across 152nd to 24th and King George, then onto 99. It wasn't so bad. I wasn't nervous at all."
9/11-13/06
Thoughts: The actual title is "Bonus Points for Little Old Ladies," but that wouldn't fit. This was my first assignment for Writing 12 - write about a single event that happened to us.
I went for humor with this one, which is unusual for me, and I think it worked. At any rate, I like it. It's written as I would tell an anecdote to some friends, which was fun. Sadly, you lose some of it if you're not familiar with local streets, but I think it works anyway.
A few notes:
Enjoy!