There were lots of things I feared while growing up. Lightning strikes that could make my fillings pop out. Gingivitis-stricken rattle snakes. A giant oak tree branch falling down on my side of the house, trapping me under its gargantuan branches. Or worse: Destroying my prized Nintendo.
There were smaller things that kept me awake at night, too. Just as worrisome, but not quite on the same scale: A jagged bone left in a chicken nugget that might nick a major artery while I swallowed it. A smaller oak tree branch falling and destroying my prized Nintendo. My white polo uniform shirt turning pink after running with the wrong laundry crowd, and then having to wear it to school the next morning. (Wait, that one actually happened!)
But maybe worst of all, or at least right up there with the worst of them (like being bitten by a rattlesnake WHILE enduring a lightning strike!) was this: Passing the parallel parking portion of my driver’s test.
Oh, mercy, mercy me! Talk about a full-on horror story. Sleepless nights. Sweaty palms. Thoughts of fleeing the country for one of those places that loves bicycles.
Which is why the little newspaper article had such an effect on me the other day: “Parallel parking cut from driving exam,” read the headline.
It said that Nevada was eliminating parallel parking in its driving skills test because it will likely reduce the number of repeat test-takers who have to keep coming back because they couldn’t get their car between two cones. And even more shocking, it said Nevada was joining Florida and a couple other states that had already eliminated the test. My own state has already sent the dreaded parallel pariah to the waste bin?
“Well, I’ll be the son of a monkey’s uncle’s sweat pants!” I blurted out, before pounding the table.
I hadn’t felt emotions like this in years. Was it my old fears welling up on me? Concern for safety of the driving public? Or maybe, more to the heart of it, absolute disgust that all of these lucky buggers wouldn’t have to face that same agonizing, obstacle-laden torture chamber that we all had to suffer through?
Is it fair we had to endure it and they won’t? (No, I’m not proud of my pettiness. It’s just who I am.)
I honestly can’t remember the parallel parking portion of my driver’s test. I know I went to a DMV location that used to be near the old Tampa Stadium. They had a little course set out that you drove through … so you wouldn’t go out on the streets and kill actual people. That could look bad for the DMV.
I remember doing the entire test, every bit of it. But the parallel parking is a blur. Blacked out. I remember waking up in the driver’s seat and the instructor saying, “OK. Not sure what happened there, but I guess I’ll give it to you so I don’t ever have to go through that again.”
To this day, there are few things I dread more than parallel parking. First off, I’m dyslexic, so I tend to get all of the prescribed steps backwards. This usually causes me to end up five lanes over … or in someone’s storefront window.
It’s not that I’m bad at it. I’ve actually managed some pretty remarkable parks. But always in a state of abject fear and total terror.
I drive around looking for the perfect spot with no one around. But it never fails that the minute I start my maneuver, there is suddenly a school field trip steps away, 45 cars blaring on the horn and an ambulance with a screaming siren that emerges out of nowhere. I’ve been known to toss my keys out the window and run away in a zig-zagged pattern.
I don’t care if this new generation has back-up cameras or cars that will do it for you. People need to know how to parallel park. And they should have to test on it, too. I HAD TO FRIGGIN’ SUFFER!!! They should, too. To know that dread and fear, just like the rest of us. After all, it’s not as bad as a rattlesnake bite while being struck by lightning. (Although, it’s pretty darn close.)