you're a late bloomer when it comes to driving

It’s a widely known joke that had it not been for a law that would force me to take driver’s ed, I would not have gotten my license on time.

It should also probably be said that if it weren’t for my learner’s permit expiring, hubris, and my small town’s lack of public transport, I probably would not have the drive—excuse the pun please—to actually learn to drive, but sadly, all of those factors ended up being the push I needed to get one.  I did, successfully, pass my driving test on the first go, much to my and my driving instructor’s amazement.  Then after that, I ceased to drive at all.  I appeased my self-worth by showing all of my peers and my family the awful license, where I look as if I would cut you if you double-crossed me—honestly, five people told me so, a few in New York no less, which I think solidifies my bad-ass look. Yet, I guess, I could at least have the option of going anywhere if my nervousness and road-consciousness would allow.

From there it took me five years to even get comfortable driving, college schedules and book fairs egging me on, and from there, I even attempted the highway when I turned twenty.  Just once though.  I never did it again until college scheduling and a part-time job forced me into it.

Man did I hate the thought of going.  I actually asked my boss, being a small, independent clothes shop this did seem like a big ask, if someone else could take my hours so I could use the bus to go, but she was the one who told me to do it, that I had to do it eventually, and that it really wasn’t that much of a big deal.  She also asked if I disliked working because, like me, she’s pretty self-conscious and thinks I'm trying to tell her I hate her or something.  Seriously, sometimes putting clothes back she suggested I try on can be interpreted as I hate the ground you walk on.  When times like these happen, I have to trod with care.

So, I figured that if my boss, who shares a birthday with me so we think that we’re alike in our passiveness, tells me that I need to grow some courage and do it, then I should.  I practiced with my older sister, Pamela, a couple of times, once, not being able to merge out of a lane exiting, thus requiring a kind semi driver to stop and honk for me to "go’n ahead lil’ missy."  Okay, that twang is a stereotype and completely made up.  It just makes myself feel better.

So I do it.  I drive to class, using the same route through the highway, changing lanes in relatively the same areas despite being behind garbage trucks or minivans or traffic, and parking in the same spot in the same lot for a whole semester.  I hate every minute of it until I’m parked and getting out of the car.  I can’t take a breath until I walk away form the pay stall, calling my mom to reassure her that I did not just die on the highway.

Then one day, I choose to go to Atlanta.  Technically, fate forces me to make the decision, and I balls up and go.

I left my thumb drive in the computer lab, the one with my rough draft of an article due Monday and, more importantly, a fanfiction I’ve been dabbling—obsessively—with for the past few weeks.  My boss asked me if I could stay longer at work, but I told her that I had to go get my oh-so important thumb drive, not knowing what matter of riff raff would enter that computer lab, or who could stumble on my beloved fanfiction.  Hells bells!  The worry.  Understanding, my boss kept me just for my shift, and I drove to Atlanta because I wanted to do it.

Weird.

I hardly ever drive to the city during high times of traffic.  I go in the afternoon or wait until rush hour’s done, so it’s not like there are a lot of cars I have to battle.  The trucks aren’t that hard to navigate around either.  It’s just in my head.

Maybe my obsession over Keanu Reeves in Speed has something to do with it?

Also, if you’re wondering, Speed was not the source of my fandom for that fanfiction.

I went to take my actual driving test a day before my permit expired.  You get two years on those things to shape up and learn the ways of the road on your own, and I spent a year avoiding that responsibility, until Georgia law changed.  You had to be 17-years-old to get a license or you had to take driver's ed, unless you did it before a certain date.

So I had time.  I started to ask my dad to show me how to drive, and I drove around my middle school parking lot.  I only had one accident, where I saw a really odd water fowl on the water, and I started to ask my dad what it was, when we crashed into the curb.  He had to lecture me on keeping my eyes on the road, despite the interesting birds I might see.

I'd relate my actual test if I remembered it, but my brain has successfully scabbed over that memory.  Only residual moments such as my driving instructor saying things like, "You're lucky that I don't fail you right now," and "I'm not going to tell you how to drive.  This is all you." I almost cried.

When we pulled into the DMV, I remember sitting in front of the building as he told me my mistakes and said, in a complete turn around of how mean he was, that I passed.  I didn't smile.  I thought I should though, so I plastered what I thought to be a grateful look on my face and thanked him.

"But you're really nervous," he added, looking at me above his clipboard.  "I'm not sure if it's because I'm in the car..."

I'm not sure what I was supposed to say at this moment.  Probably deviate from it with "You?  No!  You're a teddy bear!"  But instead I remember looking down and saying that it was him and rushing out of the car, near tears, in search of my dad.  A nice lady I passed in my search told me that it was okay, that I could always take it again, and I looked up at her, blankly, and said in a watery voice that I passed.  She looked confused and told me congratulations, which was how my dad found me.

When we were leaving, my dad asked if I wanted to drive home, and I remember telling him no, I certainly did not, to hell with tradition.  So my dad drove me home, and I fell onto my trundle two inches from my sleeping sister, who, when she woke up, started to reassure me that I can always take it over again.

"No," I said, voice muffled in my pillow.  "I passed."

"You did?" she asked, disbelieving.  I couldn't blame her.  I wouldn't believe it too.

"Yeah," I said in the same watery, pathetic voice I've been using.  "But it was terrible."

Apparently, when you pass your driving test, you tell everyone in your small circle.  Instead, I spent the day reading books to make myself feel better and avoiding everyone, which led all of my friends and family to tacitly accept my failure.  I was mildly offended when I told them otherwise and they seemed genuinely surprised.

But after that drive to Atlanta for my dear thumb drive, I pretty much just accepted the highway for what it was.  I started to pay attention to the exits and could smoothly change lanes without hyperventilating too much.  I didn’t have to drive with a water bottle in the cup holder near the gearshifts anymore.  I drove to school for other events now.  I didn’t have to piggy-back on friends or family anymore, much to their delight I’m sure.  I even offered to drive people, mostly for retribution for all those previous years of drive-fright.  

It was during one of my drives to Atlanta from the suburbs of my quaint hamlet, that I realized how much of a late bloomer I am, how I’m not weird for not having driven all those years!  Clearly, I’m stunted physically—my Asian genes mean that I am not tall at all—and emotionally—a kid farted in the cereal aisle the other day and I couldn’t keep in my guffaw.  Driving was just one of those things I had to get used to by force.

And yes, I started to enjoy it.  I honestly do now.  The moment came when I merged onto the highway and The Temper Trap’s Sweet Disposition just happened to come up on my iPod as I glided into the next lane, like a music video or a car commercial or those bits they do on Top Gear.

So here’s a mini-mix concocted to ease the driving woes of any of my fellow late bloomers, because driving does suck, but there’s not much we can do about it.

1. Hot Chip Ready for the Floor

Mentally, you need to gear yourself up for the highway.  You are ready, you are ready for the floor!  You need to dance and lull yourself in a pseudo-cocoon of safety and reassure yourself that you can successfully handle the merge you are about to undergo.

2. The Temper Trap Sweet Disposition

If you have reached the merge, and there's a straight shot to the fast lane, do it! Your life is a music video!  You're a commercial for your car, be it sedan or SUV!  You're all terrains type of cool!  Plus, your car looks sweet.  I mean sweet.

3. Florence + the Machine Bedroom Hymns

What was that?  You're on the road and suddenly all the cars who were just eating your dust are suddenly upon you?  When did they gas like that?  You certainly are following the rules, whereas these chumps want to egg you on.  If it's a battle they desire, you got them here.  Merge out and free yourself!

4. The Black Keys Lonely Boy

You can do it.  Though that rather aggressive van with ladders on top keeps cutting you off, you know, deep down, that you can beat him.  He'll get his.  He'll get it.

5. Arctic Monkeys R U Mine?

Did someone just beep at you?  Well, you couldn't care less because you're always right and that driver is making up for poor skill.  Plus, you're head banging in your seat.  You don't have to care.

6. Bow Wow Wow Aphrodisiac

You certainly mean business.  Look at you switching lanes and keeping up with the best drivers on the road.  Go ahead and throw a fist into the air, we can always freeze-frame it later.

7.  Modest Mouse Float On

All that hard work certainly paid off as you easily cruise down ahead of that mob of cars still fighting for their space behind you.  They can just eat your dust.

8. The Libertines Vertigo

Success still sweetly resting on your head like a laurel.  You can drive into that horizon, home in your sights.

9. The Lighthouse and the Whaler Pioneers

Start reminiscing about how scared you were when you first merged onto the highway.  Yes, that was you at the beginning, but look at how much you've accomplished!  Look at you go!  That was so easy! You can certainly do it again tomorrow.

10. The Black Keys Everlasting Light

Success!  You're home!  Hopefully someone made dinner and that you have a dog that is grateful that you didn't die like one of them on the highway.  Or maybe you've reached your destination?  Right on time exactly too!