Even though there’s only about a mile from Har-Ber to the Department of Motor Vehicle office (the Driver’s test place), there seems to be hundreds of miles in between me and me getting my driver’s license.
This task seems almost impossible for me. I can’t even pass the Drivers’s Permit Test.
I’ve failed the permit test three consecutive times. The steps for me attempting to receive a permit have almost become routine.
I walk down to the Conselor’s Center and fill out the annoying yellow half-sheet of paper requesting school permission for an attempt at getting a Driver’s Permit. I wait 3-5 school days and then return to pick up a surprisingly blank piece of paper. Then I spend about 3.5 minutes reading the red, annoyingly obvious “Driving Rules Book.” (You soon realize that even these few minutes of “studying” was a huge waste of time.)
Now begins the much anticipated drive to the sacred DMB building, and this is my big moment. I find myself sitting in the aged, blue-plastic chairs staring hopelessly at the computer with a blank expression, mumbling curses, and thinking to myself, “Man, I should’ve studied… Wait, this crap wasn’t even in that red, annoyingly obvious ‘Driving Rules Book.'”
At this point I have either already bombed it or I am a few questions away from being stopped mid-question to be informed that I’ve “FAILED.”
This leads to the walk-of-shame back to my mom’s car, where she just HAS to ask me how I did. I grieve over my failure for approximately ten minutes just to soon realize that I must throw myself back into the never-ending cycle.