Training Wheels

I do a lot of driving, which means I’m on the freeways a lot. It’s how us southern Californians live; we are deeply enmeshed in a car culture.

For those of you who have never experienced what it’s like driving in So Cal, let me paint a picture for you: Every other driver on the road is SpongeBob SquarePants, Satan is your passenger and he’s giving you an enema, and Alex Jones’ InfoWars is blaring out from the speakers and you can’t change the channel.

You good? Okay, let’s move on…

I’m developing a tick.

You ever yell “Learn how to drive!” at shitty drivers? I’ve done it, it’s a waste of time. People aren’t gonna take the initiative to learn how to become better drivers… why would they? They already have their driver’s license and are navigating the roads… as shitty drivers… and the problem is, they believe they’re driving just fine. They’re blissfully unaware, which is the most annoying part because my goal is to make them realize what shitty drivers they are.

Any idiot moron can go to the DMV, take the driver’s test and get on the road within hours. In fact, every idiot moron does… and they’re all on the freeway. It should be called confinedway, as there’s nothing “free” about it.

Foreigners are the worst offenders. Hold on… before you start slinging the word “racist” at me, know this: I am right. Also know this: I am a foreigner, along with my entire family. We all came over to this country on a boat (a big one, not the kind that requires rowing). No, I don’t have an accent, I speak California just like every other normal person… and I’ve always been an excellent driver… maybe not a conscientious one, but a skilled one.

But like I said, my family and I are all foreigners, and the very first day my dad learned how to drive a car, was the day he drove a car across the United States, from New Jersey to California.

Let that sink in.

My mom already knew how to drive. She “taught” my dad for a few hours, then we hit the road so we could drive across the country… and I’ve never claimed my family was normal or sane. Maybe I was adopted. I mean, clearly, there’s nothing wrong with me.

It probably goes without saying, but my dad did not have his driver’s license. Eventually he had to get one, so twenty years later… yes, I’m serious, he drove in the United States of America for twenty years without a driver’s license… he asked me to accompany him to the DMV and help him because he was worried he wouldn’t pass the written portion of the test. Rightfully so; he was never instructed how to properly drive a vehicle, so he was a shitty driver.

Fuckin’ foreigner

So off to the DMV we went. Back then, things were different (besides the fact you could drive without a license for twenty years as a shitty driver and not get caught), but also the way the written portion of the driving test was administered was they handed you a piece of paper and a pencil, and told you to take the test in a segregated area inside the building, away from anyone who could help give you the answers, which was stupid because who the hell was watching, DMV employees? Haha… hahahahahaha! 

That’s not what we did. We took the test paper, left the building, went home, looked up all the answers on the corresponding study material, went back to the DMV, turned in the test, and my dad passed with a 100% score. They never knew we left. As for the practical portion of the test, I am truly perplexed as to how he passed it since I was not involved.

Maybe his instructor was a foreigner.

You know, I am just now realizing, I took part in something that bugs the crap out of me today; facilitated a foreigner getting behind the wheel of a car without proper training.

Karma, people.