When I got my license, I was lucky enough to have a car to drive. I wasn't lucky enough to have a Corvette. Instead I had a Chevrolet Chevette, a sh*tvette in the parlance of the day. It was a tan four door, four cylinder, manual transmission vehicle. It had no pick up and a heater that took half an hour to catch up to the car. It was my ride though and I was happy enough to have something to get me around town.
My car was a symbol of adulthood and I felt like a big man in my little car. I was excited to be able to park in the lot with all the other cool kids with cars. When I looked around, most of the cars were as beat up as mine but we were all just as happy to be able to drive to lunch and make use of some of that freedom that comes with being a grown up. The option to eat off campus was a huge deal. It made the whole side of the city our lunchroom.
Like most teenagers I was usually in a hurry. I would play the game of trying to make up a little time by zigging and zagging around the traffic. It took me years to understand how self-defeating this practice was. I always felt like it helped but all it really did was stress me out.
One time my game got me in a bit of trouble. It was winter and I was heading home from school. We lived about twenty five minutes outside of town and I was always trying to shave a minute or two off the trip. It was part of the game. I came up behind someone who was driving incredibly slow. I sat behind them for a minute but then whipped into the next lane to pass.
As an inexperienced driver, I was unprepared for what happened next. My rear wheels kept moving to the left as the front wheels straightened out. I corrected. The rear went the other direction, a little farther. Each time I turned the wheel to correct, the rear swung out farther the other way. Eventually I was swinging at a right angle to the road each direction. I swung to the left and the slow poke passed me on the right. I looked ahead and the oncoming car was definitely a concern since I was in his lane. I swung to the right and the oncoming car passed me on the left. At this point, my car or possibly God had enough. I did a complete three sixty in the middle of the road and slid backward off the shoulder.
After checking my pants and saying a quick thank you, I pulled back out onto the road and held up traffic for the rest of the drive home. I learned to pay attention a bit that day. Sometimes I wonder that I lived past my teenage years though.
One time I lost the brakes in the car and went through a stop light honking and flashing. That woke me up and my sister too. Another time, I was having a little fun ramming snow drifts and suddenly the car stopped dead. The car wouldn't start and I got out after I popped the hood. I lifted the top, I was astounded to see that snow was packed to the top of the engine compartment. Every nook and cranny was filled tightly with the aforementioned snow drifts.
Steve, my best friend, and I walked the half mile back to his house to get his truck and towed my car back to the workshop to thaw. I got the opportunity to replace a timing belt on the car. It turned into a learning experience after all.
The first time I ever got pulled over was fun too. My middle sister was a real social butterfly. She was a freshman and got invited to the movies with her boyfriend and some other class mates. I was assigned to pick her up. When I arrived, Patti was surrounded by her buddies and wanted me to take them all to her boyfriend's house to hang out. I had reservations. As I mentioned earlier, the Chevette is a compact four door. However, in addition to being a social butterfly, Patti is persuasive. Shortly, there were two people stacked in the front seat, four in the back seat, and two in the hatchback trunk.
We pulled out of the theater parking lot and were on our way. Everything was fine until I tried to stop. Apparently the weight of nine people is more than is recommended for braking in a Chevette. When I tried to stop, I almost had to stand on the brake pedal to avoid tapping the car in front of me. The front of the car dived toward the road and the bumper may or may not have touched the pavement.
Unfortunately, there was a policeman sitting in his squad car next to the intersection. When he pulled us over, I could tell he was amused but he took issue with our lack of sufficient seat belts and my inability to see out the back of the car. Luckily Pattie's boyfriend lived close by and he just followed us to his house. After that I kept the passenger quantity to five or less.
Another time I'll tell you a sure fire way to put a car through the back of the garage. Type at you later.
