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Rated: E · Essay · Other · #1931263
A humorous article about driving school and its benefits
A few years ago I was told that before I would be allowed to test for my driver’s license I would have to attend driver’s school. I thought, what is there to learn? One pedal is go, one is stop and the steering wheel is directions. I had played every racing game my local arcade offered, and I was really good at them – honestly, I was just downright amazing. I had this driving thing in the bag. Even though I was confident in my abilities to guide a vehicle through the crowded streets of the suburban world of my youth, I still worried about driver’s school. Soon my worry became so strong that I asked my mother why I had to go. Her response was short – “So you can learn to drive, and drive well.” Simple as that. I tossed and turned in my bed the night before my first driver’s class, worried and excited at the same time. It was going to be just like Need For Speed. Little did I know that driving wouldn’t be that easy.

I arrived at the class, and they popped a DVD into the computer. Suddenly, I was subjected to two hours of propaganda. Don’t drink and drive! Don’t text and drive! Don’t get dressed, brush your teeth or eat breakfast and drive! The road is a dangerous place, and every time you park you should probably say a prayer to whatever God you believe in, thanking them for guiding you safely to your destination. Really, the road is just a giant death trap, hungering for the souls of drivers who aren’t paying close enough attention. Are you sure you really want to drive, because you’ll probably never see your next birthday? Make sure you have life insurance and inform your next of kin every time you sit down in your mechanical death machine called a car. Class is over, please exit through the door on your left. If you’re too shell shocked to walk, feel free to sit here in the dark and contemplate your fear of the road.

My excitement for driving was dampened by the realization that I was tempting fate. The next day at driving school arrived. We started class by identifying a car. I was pretty good at that. I could tell a car from anything else about 85% of the time (a significantly higher proportion of the time than my fellow classmates). Next we approached the car. “Make sure you walk around the car first and inspect it before you drive.” Inspect it for what? Probably bombs -everyone knows it only takes one good car bomb to ruin your day. We inspected the car, and after finding a distinct lack of bombs we were allowed to enter the car. Class is over. Go home. Make sure you inspect the car that comes to pick you up before you get in.

When my mother came to pick me up I started inspecting the vehicle. She wasn’t amused.I tried explaining that I was checking for bombs, but that just made things worse.

My next class I actually got to drive the car. After inspecting the car, I got in next to the driving instructor and he began to describe the route I would be embarking on for this drive. Perfect. I was ready to go. But I couldn’t find the stupid coin slot on the car. Every car game I had ever played started with a coin slot. I had even brought along extra quarters for replays (assuming I unlocked them). Evidently the car started by turning a key in something called the ignition. The car roared to life. I shifted into drive and was just about to floor it when the instructor stopped me. I hadn’t adjusted the mirrors. Mirrors? What are they for? Looking behind me? Why would I want to do that? I’m driving forward not backwards. Evidently mirrors are used to stay aware of where your car is in relation to all the other cars in the road. My first drive went smoothly enough. I didn’t hit any curbs (not surprising since at the local arcade I was known for my ability to control cars), I didn’t run any red lights (surprising since at the local arcade I was known for running red lights), and I completed my three point turn on the first try.

For the next couple of weeks I laboriously learned the way of the vehicle. I could tell the speed of the car by the sound of my soda vibrating in the cup holder. I could accurately park in even the tightest spots in the parking lot. I could even pull U-turns on busy roads without going over the median. I learned to resist hitting pedestrians -because apparently in real life you don’t get extra points for hitting the pedestrians. I learned that to refuel you don’t look for floating gas cans. I learned that shooting other vehicles in your way is not acceptable (every once in a while I am still tempted though). And most importantly, I learned that driving isn’t a game.

The final day of class was finally here. I hopped into the vehicle and went off on the best drive of my life. When I pulled back into the parking lot outside the driver’s school my instructor looked at me and gave me a thumbs up. Driver’s school may seem ridiculous, and probably does to any headstrong, prideful teenager. But, it really paid off, making sure I didn’t have any misconceptions about driving and making sure I had plenty of experience. If I had just gone for the license test without it I would have failed the test – and even if I had passed I would not be as good of a driver as I am now. Please, consider driving school – even if you are already the best driver that had ever graced the arcade with your presence.

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