Student Publishing Program ::

Kate Jeong

At Last

It was two days and counting till Thursday. That was Tuesday. Now, my jeans feel way too tight. I keep telling myself it is the South Beach diet run amok, but even I don’t believe that.

There’s nothing to worry about, right? Everything has gone according to plan. I downloaded “The Bible” and religiously read twenty pages each night until I finished. The next night I would start the process over again. By the end of the summer I had read the book six times and had memorized the strangest, most useless facts. I was confident that I would succeed. After all, I was already past the first step and just had to survive the next challenge.

Still, the possibility of something going wrong was gnawing at me. What if I forgot the “magic” hand signs? Could I be so stupid as to hit a non-movable object? What if I had to multitask, like having a conversation while navigating around road construction? Battling these thoughts was my one constant image…a bright red McDonald’s drive-thru, with my head sticking out of the window, ordering a Quarter Pounder and a vanilla shake. I wanted to be mentally tough.

The biggest day of my life arrives and I wear my lucky socks, just in case. I get into the car and off we go. I know that smell, but is it really peanut butter? Next to the confectionary factory in this unkempt industrial area is the building that matches the address on my post-it note. It is not even close to what I had imagined. I walk inside and there are these blowups that you find on people’s lawns before Christmas. They are absolutely tacky and hideous inside the lobby. I cannot imagine what made someone put an uber glow ball with fake falling snow inside a public area. It doesn’t help that someone has an ‘80s boom box off in the corner playing Christmas music sung by none other than Alvin and the Chipmunks. Isn’t the peeling linoleum bad enough?

I find a bench and sit down. The person next to me is straight from GQ and oblivious to the scene. Nothing to this, he must be thinking. It is my turn. I feel like a jar of pickles gone extremely sour. I walk outside and a car pulls up. I check and double check to make sure I have all the necessary paperwork. I get in and take command and control. There is no turning back. No pun intended, but I turn left. No problem. I clear the corner with plenty of room to spare. I pick up speed, take the car uphill and exquisitely parallel park in between a car and a pickup truck. Everything checks out just fine. I can still feel my jeans sitting the wrong way, but I have to keep moving. I check the mirrors and the situation is clear. I pull into the cul de sac past the Tex-Mex place and I execute a picture perfect turn. My “car language” keeps those pesky afternoon pedestrians in check as I cruise through the traffic light. I reach the straightaway and we’re back at the nondescript industrial-looking building that could double for a Christmas Tree store. Mission accomplished!

Wait a minute…are you talking to me? Yes, I’m in this class and no I was not sleeping. Yes, I know I have to pass the written driver’s test before I can sign up for a road test. No, I think your lectures are stimulating, invigorating, and riveting. Your driver’s ed class is the quintessential highlight of my day! No, I don’t plan a career as a stand-up comic.

The monotone drones on, I slump back into my chair and close my eyes. The victory lap is sweet. It only took an agonizing 6 months, 15 days, and 6 hours, but I finally have a junior operator’s license. Ahhh, the freedom to leave my bus pass at home and the pedometer in the kitchen. I can now join millions of other people and say with certainty that there is more than one way to get your fill of french fries along with a Quarter Pounder and a vanilla shake.

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]