I tried to get my license back when I was the tender age
of sixteen. To be honest, I don't like driving
. I don't like cars
. Needless to say, driver's ed
was a pain in my side, but I had to go through it, as that was what society expected. Now, the first time I attempted to get my license, I took the test at my high school
when I was fifteen years old. Although I had a passing score on the test and I didn't commit any traffic violations, my instructor refused to give me the slip that I needed to get my license when I turned sixteen; needless to say, I was pissed off that I had to take the test again. In the four months or so that I should have been driving with my parents supervising, I basically sat on my ass, played video games, and did school stuff.
When my birthday rolled around in June, I went to take the test and get my license. I'll cut to the chase; the man who was administering the test made me extremely nervous, and despite having the AC cranked all the way up, I was drenched in sweat. Everything was a blur of motion and color; supposedly stop signs were ran and mirrors were left unchecked, but to this day I feel that my lack of confidence was the major cause of my failing grade. He told me to pull into the parking lot and let him out of the car, and that I had already failed the test so we did not need to continue. By this point, I was a total wreck, nearly on the verge of passing out. I turned into the parking space, but not tight enough; my 1989 grey Buick Park Avenue was careening into, coincidentally, a 1989 red Buick Park Avenue. He told me to slam on the brakes about a half second before impact, and neither my brain nor my body were functioning, so by the time the brakes were applied, the damage had been done. I backed up, hearing the metal scrape, and I parked correctly. I could go on with the details: how the cop laughed when he filled out the damage report, how the damage was appraised at $300 when the car wasn't worth as much, and how I had to explain to my mom that I didn't have my license, but in my mind those details have faded; all that remains are those few seconds before, during, and after impact.
Side note: I managed to get my license at the age of eighteen, less than four days before I had to start commuting to college. The only comment I received after the test was over involved not parking close enough to the curb. Yes, my picture
looks like crap, and I still can barely drive, but at least I know that I won't have to take a driving test until I'm old and senile. Unless, of course, I get into another accident...