Stereotypical

I have a secret to share with you today...I am a horrible driver.  

Mr. B actually hates driving with me. Like fears for his life, closes his eyes, only lets me drive if I am the last available sober human being, hates driving with me.

And yes it is completely stereotypical.

But completely true.

I blame it on my parents, because that's what ever kid should do. 

Wait I am not a kid anymore so I blame it on...other drivers?!?

Let me tell you a little story about the immense amount of driving failures I incurred in my first three years of driving.

High school me!
No these are not glamour shots, my best friend just liked photography so I was always her test subject.

My parents didn't want to pay for me to take driver's ed, so they figured they would teach me to drive themselves. Failure number one.

My parents were going through a separation and didn't have time to teach me how to drive. Failure number two.

I ran my mom's brand new Montero Sport through bushes and hit a car on the other side. I was 15, only had a learner's permit and had two children I babysat for in the backseat. I thought the car was in reverse, it was in fact not. Failure number three.

When I took my driving test, written I might add, I passed by one question. Thank goodness I never had to pass an actual driving test, I might still not have my license. Failure number four.

My mom let me 'have' the wonderful car she didn't want anymore. By let me have, I mean she had me pay her a car payment for two years. The car was a Lumina. Every 16 year old's dream might I add. There are very few pictures of said Lumina. Failure number five.

I rear ended a car at a stop sign in my own neighborhood. Failure number six.

My parents forbid me from leaving our city limits while driving, which meant I never learned how to drive on a freeway. So I did what any teenager would do, drove on the freeway a lot, by myself, always in constant fear. Failure number seven. 

Senior year of high school myself and a friend drove up to Austin to tour the campus and such. We also toured downtown. I accidentally ran a red light and in the process of saying 'wow that came out of no where' ran two more red lights. In my defense they were really close together. The cops were not so kind, thank goodness we were both completely sober. Failure number eight.

Said friend and I in front of our first apartment in Austin in 2004.

Christmas break I was driving in Houston and a truck stopped short and I drove underneath the truck. No one was hurt but my dad had to sledge hammer the car hood down. Oh and I got my third or so ticket. Failure number nine.

While driving to Houston to go to court for the accident, I got a speeding ticket. Cop in La Grange flirting with a 18 year old and then still giving them a ticket, NOT COOL! Failure number ten.

The very nice lady at the courthouse informed me that if I received another ticket I would lose my license. Failure number eleven.

After that I became a very very cautious driver and since then have only received one other ticket. 

But just in case you were curious the Lumina is no longer with us. Six months later a drunk girl backed into my parked empty car and broke something important. Thankfully she left a very scribbled note. So the insurance company gave me a settlement check rather than fixing the car. My car was still legally in my dads name, stupid divorce shit, so he used the money to get me a new car. A 1994 Ford Tempo. Sigh, every 19 year old's dream car.

Two cars later and I finally have a wonderful car that I picked out all by myself and I probably drive like a ninety year old woman. But when you start off with so many failure the only way to go is up, right?!?

My baby!

  

- The Babbling Box!