License to Drive

I finally did it. I got my driver's license. It took two years of waiting and half a year of practice, but I finally did it. I went in and took my test and obtained my license to drive.

That's a big deal, you know. In America, driving has long been a symbol of independence -- a huge step in development staircase of any healthy US psyche. The ability to drive means freedom. Suddenly, I have the freedom to go on an adventure, the freedom to wander aimlessly, the freedom to come and go as I please. It's all there waiting for me to tap into it. All I have to do is get a car and I'm halfway to making my own "On the Road."

Of course, I don't mind not having a car. I've done well enough these past 18 years without one. Frankly, the freedom has kind of escaped me. I've never really felt held back or tethered to a specific location. In all honesty, a car would probably be more of a hassel than anything else to a college student like me who lives on campus. Not to mention to my parents. Do you know how expensive it is to add on another driver to the insurance? I don't either, but it's definitely way too much especially when you consider that I remain without car. The only thing the license really allows me to do at this point (in college and devoid of wheels) is to buy my cold medicine when I need it. A valid picture ID including my birthday doesn't seem like a strong enough reason to got through all the pain and expense of becoming a licensed driver.

But that's all beyond the point! The point is that I could drive if I wanted to. I could go on a road trip if I wanted to. If the spirit moved me, I could high-tail it to Mexico or cruise over to Santa Barbara. If I wanted to. That's a nice enough feeling. I'll tell you, though, the driving test wasn't the highlight of my vacation.

They try their hardest to put you on edge and force your wobbly, nervous inner fifth grader to surface. This is completely counter intuitive since they're going to be taking you out onto the open road -- they're basically putting their lives into your hands, counting on your skill to pull them through the drive. Why would they want to make a jittery teenager even more hesitant and anxious?

They create an atmosphere of confusion from the very start. When I got there, they told me to go out to the lot and pull in to lane 1. Okay. That sounds easy enough. But guess what? They didn't label any of their lanes! Luckily, they had marked where people waiting for their behind-the-wheel exam should be. So that wasn't too bad. I even got the benefit of listening in on the person in front of me as he was tested. I heard most of the questions they were going to ask. So I felt pretty confident that I would be okay on that portion of the test.

So when the stoic, emotionless robot they sent out to test me arrived, I was feeling good. I was sitting in the driver's seat and she motioned for me to roll down the window.

"Turn the key on."

Ah. She wants to car on so she can make sure all my lights work. Cool. So I turn on the car. But that's not what she wanted.

"No, no. Just turn the key on."

I didn't know that you could expressionlessly snap at someone. But she had managed. But what did she mean? Just turn the key on? It occured to me that maybe she wanted me to do what my mom does when she leaves just the radio on for me. But how does she do that? It's something to do with turning the key, right? RIght? So I frantically turn the key left and right, around and around until it finally clicks on. Relief floods in.

Then it's time to identify things in the car. Turn signal. Emergency break and lights. Windsheild wipers. And defrost. She wanted me to point to where the defrost was. What? Why do I need to know that? No one's ever shown me where that it! So I look around the car, trying to look cool while desperately searching for something that at least vaguely resembles a defroster. Wait! There by the heater and air conditioning! That looks like something! But which one? There are so many buttons with squiggles and squares that could possibly be a defroster, but who knows? So I wave my hand in the general vicinity.

"It's right here."

Apparently I fooled her. But that was really the only time when I could rely on fooling her. Then I started to drive. Just like my mother told me, the woman tell me slightly in advance which way I should turn.

"Turn left here."

That's clear enough. Left. Easy. That's the opposite of right. No biggie. So why is it that for some reason my brain traslated that command into the action of a right turn?

"I said right."

Ahh! How could I mess up on something that simple???

"Oh! You did! Ha ha. Yes, a left turn."

Great way to start the test. Actually, that was the wrost of it. The rest of the test went without much incidence. I was good for the rest of it. I anticipated her tricks, turned my head the full 90 degrees left and right before I proceeded, waiting until after the intersections to change lanes -- it was textbook. At the end of the drive, she tell me I passed. Without a smile, without a nod, without even blinking. But I didn't care. I passed.

And now there's just the wait. The wait until I get my actual physical license. The wait until I get a car. The wait until my grand road trip. But the hardest part is over. Now there's just the drive of school to keep me going. But it's good that I took my little step forward. Sure makes me feel nice.