The Driving Test Story
So Adam and I had tried going to the DMV a couple of times before yesterday, and each time I wimped out at the last minute. I know that I can drive, but my last road test was such an awful experience that the thought of failing terrified me. I couldn't bear another four years of being mocked for being a shitty driver when I KNEW that I could do everything required for the test. I went straight home after the gym on Friday night and went to bed at a reasonable hour, even though I really wanted to go out.
On Saturday morning we woke up early and headed out to Lombard. I drove around for a little bit, practiced parallel parking, and learned how to do a 3-point turn. I've done tons of them in alleys here, but I'd never done one in the middle of a road - what's the point when there are alleys everywhere in the city?
After a while of practicing I pulled over and weighed up the pros and cons of doing my test that day. I told Adam that I desperately wanted to get my license but I don't feel ready to do absolutely everything I may have to do to drive. I don't want to drive on the expressway yet. I don't like driving in the loop on a weekend, much less a weekday. I have trouble parallel parking in the suburbs. I'm totally fine in the city, but I worry that people in the suburbs are going to see me and get mad that I'm so close to their cars when there's plenty of space out there. I drove off, still undecided and tried another couple of parallel parks. They were flawless. Adam said, "that's quite the little pep talk you gave yourself there, I think that you should go for it."
I drove over to the DMV and got in line. Halfway through the line, the panic set in again. I told Adam I couldn't do it and went outside, where I sat on the pavement and tried to calm myself down. He came out and crouched next to me, asking me what I was so scared of. I told him that when I pictured myself doing the maneuvers I was totally fine, but the second that I actually started thinking about the test as a whole, I'd picture everything that could possibly go wrong - every single incident where someone could do something stupid and I'd have to perform an illegal maneuver to get out of the situation.
I calmed myself down a little more and got back in line. I got to the front and gave the woman at the counter my state ID and my recently updated insurance policy. She bitched at me that it didn't have the date of coverage on it (it does) and made me rustle through my papers to get the original policy. She told Adam that he had to sit near the front of the office while I waited for my number to be called. 15 minutes or so later, I was called up, signed a couple of forms, and was told to go to counter #3. At counter #3, my information was entered into a computer and I was instructed to get the car and bring it around to the waiting lanes at the back, and to ensure I had a licensed driver with me around the parking lot.
I went out to the car and called Adam, who came and joined me. I read the testing sheet to get an idea of what they'd be looking at while I drove. After I felt confident that I understood what would give me demerits, I drove around the back of the building.
There were four waiting lanes. The first one looked the emptiest, but had two employees standing in it, so I moved over to lane #2. Just after I'd put the car in park, one of the employees tapped on my window. I rolled it down, and he instructed me to get into the third lane. I backed up, turned on my indicator, and pulled into the third lane. Just as I was about to stop, he came over and said, "no! lane one! lane one!" Back I went again, and pulled into the first lane. A couple of minutes later he came over to my window again, and this time said, "actually, come to think of it, it'll go quicker if you're in lane #4" I wanted to say something about, "if I do this one, can you just give me my license?" but I bit my tongue and changed lanes once again.
After a couple more minutes he came to my window again and checked that my indicators and horn were working. He then told Adam that he'd have to go inside and wait for me. I sat tight and watched as various examiners came out, spoke to the man I'd dealt with, and were directed towards the next driver to be tested. I put Voxtrot back on the stereo and danced around in my seat a little, trying to keep myself upbeat and calm throughout all the waiting.
Suddenly, my door opened. Unlike all of the other examiners, this one hadn't spoken to the man in charge. I grabbed my grading sheet from the passenger's seat and held it out to her as she sat down. She asked me if I had the air on, and I assured her that I did. She started poking at my controls, asking me if there was any way to get it any cooler. I fumbled around for a bit before remembering that I never set the air to our faces when in the car with Adam for fear of drying out his contacts. I apologised, telling her that my husband wears contacts so we can't keep the air on our faces when he's in the car. She said, "oh, I wear contacts too, but I've got me these here sunglasses so my eyes are just fine."
She had me pull forward and out of the DMV. I had to turn a few times and stop at a few lights and stop signs. After about a minute I saw her pull out a paper and start scribbling, and my leg went from slightly shaky to practically convulsing with fear. She told me to pull into a parking lot. She had me park in a space. I then had to back from that space into another space at a 90 degree angle. At this point I realised that I couldn't signify the end of my maneuver by pulling the handbrake since it was covered by her rather large belly. She then asked me what I would do if I was parking downhill (Illinois isn't exactly known for its mountain ranges, so testing parking on an incline requires some creativity). She then had me drive out of the parking lot and back the way that I'd come.
I could hear more scribbling and see her pencil working furiously out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't imagine what I was doing so wrong that it required giving me more and more demerits, but when I stopped at the next red light I got a good look. On the left-hand side of her paper was written "Fantabuloose Clothing" and on the right side was a drawing of a dress. Yes, the woman who was determining my fate was more devoted to designing dresses than making sure that I knew how to drive.
Less than five minutes from when I set out, I pulled back into the parking lot of the DMV. I made a beeline towards the first available parking space I could see (apparently she wanted me to go to another one, but when I pulled in she said, "or this one's fine, we can park here). She handed me back my score sheet and told me to put it in the red box. Apparently she'd also knocked the lock when she'd entered the car, because I had to unlock the door for her as well.
I walked back to the DMV in a daze, trying to figure out whether the red box thing meant that I'd passed or failed. I put my paper in the box and was told to sit down. A minute later I was called, had my picture taken, and was given a license. I walked to the exit, still dazed, where I found Adam and told him that according to the state of Illinois I know how to drive. We then got in the car and drove to Noodles and Co. where I called my mother. She squealed with delight and told me over and over again how proud she was.
I'm still a little confused by all of this. The more I think about it, the more I'm not entirely sure that the woman who administered my test was actually an employee of the state. I'm totally beside myself that she determined that I was fit to drive after less than five minutes of mediocre driving (remember I said that my leg was practically convulsing I was so scared). I'm pleased and everything, but I keep expecting the "April Fools!" moment to come. Too bad it's the middle of July.
On Saturday morning we woke up early and headed out to Lombard. I drove around for a little bit, practiced parallel parking, and learned how to do a 3-point turn. I've done tons of them in alleys here, but I'd never done one in the middle of a road - what's the point when there are alleys everywhere in the city?
After a while of practicing I pulled over and weighed up the pros and cons of doing my test that day. I told Adam that I desperately wanted to get my license but I don't feel ready to do absolutely everything I may have to do to drive. I don't want to drive on the expressway yet. I don't like driving in the loop on a weekend, much less a weekday. I have trouble parallel parking in the suburbs. I'm totally fine in the city, but I worry that people in the suburbs are going to see me and get mad that I'm so close to their cars when there's plenty of space out there. I drove off, still undecided and tried another couple of parallel parks. They were flawless. Adam said, "that's quite the little pep talk you gave yourself there, I think that you should go for it."
I drove over to the DMV and got in line. Halfway through the line, the panic set in again. I told Adam I couldn't do it and went outside, where I sat on the pavement and tried to calm myself down. He came out and crouched next to me, asking me what I was so scared of. I told him that when I pictured myself doing the maneuvers I was totally fine, but the second that I actually started thinking about the test as a whole, I'd picture everything that could possibly go wrong - every single incident where someone could do something stupid and I'd have to perform an illegal maneuver to get out of the situation.
I calmed myself down a little more and got back in line. I got to the front and gave the woman at the counter my state ID and my recently updated insurance policy. She bitched at me that it didn't have the date of coverage on it (it does) and made me rustle through my papers to get the original policy. She told Adam that he had to sit near the front of the office while I waited for my number to be called. 15 minutes or so later, I was called up, signed a couple of forms, and was told to go to counter #3. At counter #3, my information was entered into a computer and I was instructed to get the car and bring it around to the waiting lanes at the back, and to ensure I had a licensed driver with me around the parking lot.
I went out to the car and called Adam, who came and joined me. I read the testing sheet to get an idea of what they'd be looking at while I drove. After I felt confident that I understood what would give me demerits, I drove around the back of the building.
There were four waiting lanes. The first one looked the emptiest, but had two employees standing in it, so I moved over to lane #2. Just after I'd put the car in park, one of the employees tapped on my window. I rolled it down, and he instructed me to get into the third lane. I backed up, turned on my indicator, and pulled into the third lane. Just as I was about to stop, he came over and said, "no! lane one! lane one!" Back I went again, and pulled into the first lane. A couple of minutes later he came over to my window again, and this time said, "actually, come to think of it, it'll go quicker if you're in lane #4" I wanted to say something about, "if I do this one, can you just give me my license?" but I bit my tongue and changed lanes once again.
After a couple more minutes he came to my window again and checked that my indicators and horn were working. He then told Adam that he'd have to go inside and wait for me. I sat tight and watched as various examiners came out, spoke to the man I'd dealt with, and were directed towards the next driver to be tested. I put Voxtrot back on the stereo and danced around in my seat a little, trying to keep myself upbeat and calm throughout all the waiting.
Suddenly, my door opened. Unlike all of the other examiners, this one hadn't spoken to the man in charge. I grabbed my grading sheet from the passenger's seat and held it out to her as she sat down. She asked me if I had the air on, and I assured her that I did. She started poking at my controls, asking me if there was any way to get it any cooler. I fumbled around for a bit before remembering that I never set the air to our faces when in the car with Adam for fear of drying out his contacts. I apologised, telling her that my husband wears contacts so we can't keep the air on our faces when he's in the car. She said, "oh, I wear contacts too, but I've got me these here sunglasses so my eyes are just fine."
She had me pull forward and out of the DMV. I had to turn a few times and stop at a few lights and stop signs. After about a minute I saw her pull out a paper and start scribbling, and my leg went from slightly shaky to practically convulsing with fear. She told me to pull into a parking lot. She had me park in a space. I then had to back from that space into another space at a 90 degree angle. At this point I realised that I couldn't signify the end of my maneuver by pulling the handbrake since it was covered by her rather large belly. She then asked me what I would do if I was parking downhill (Illinois isn't exactly known for its mountain ranges, so testing parking on an incline requires some creativity). She then had me drive out of the parking lot and back the way that I'd come.
I could hear more scribbling and see her pencil working furiously out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't imagine what I was doing so wrong that it required giving me more and more demerits, but when I stopped at the next red light I got a good look. On the left-hand side of her paper was written "Fantabuloose Clothing" and on the right side was a drawing of a dress. Yes, the woman who was determining my fate was more devoted to designing dresses than making sure that I knew how to drive.
Less than five minutes from when I set out, I pulled back into the parking lot of the DMV. I made a beeline towards the first available parking space I could see (apparently she wanted me to go to another one, but when I pulled in she said, "or this one's fine, we can park here). She handed me back my score sheet and told me to put it in the red box. Apparently she'd also knocked the lock when she'd entered the car, because I had to unlock the door for her as well.
I walked back to the DMV in a daze, trying to figure out whether the red box thing meant that I'd passed or failed. I put my paper in the box and was told to sit down. A minute later I was called, had my picture taken, and was given a license. I walked to the exit, still dazed, where I found Adam and told him that according to the state of Illinois I know how to drive. We then got in the car and drove to Noodles and Co. where I called my mother. She squealed with delight and told me over and over again how proud she was.
I'm still a little confused by all of this. The more I think about it, the more I'm not entirely sure that the woman who administered my test was actually an employee of the state. I'm totally beside myself that she determined that I was fit to drive after less than five minutes of mediocre driving (remember I said that my leg was practically convulsing I was so scared). I'm pleased and everything, but I keep expecting the "April Fools!" moment to come. Too bad it's the middle of July.