Tuesday, August 05, 2003
Licence to Roll.
My name is Kill... Road Kill. I
18 years of being stuck at the back seat of the car watching people drive me around, a few weeks of watching my friends vrooming around in their own set of wheels and I was ready to rumble. That's right. I'm taking to the roads!
Steve, my driving instructor, was a mild mannered old chap who explained everything in a slow, clear way that made up for his heavy accent. " Watch and learn," he told me in his unhurried way. He then proceeded to pelt me with a myriad of confusing instructions. All I managed to figure out at the end of it was that I needed to rent an octupus. " See... so easy," he pulled the car to a stop and beamed at me. Easy? I think I need the coordination of a gymnast on a balance beam to handle this.
The wheels in my head were whirling as fast as the gears of the car while I tried to remember the intricate sequence of "to-dos". THe only difference was that my neurons were near the point of overheating. He spent an hour going through everything from mirror adjustment to the dashboard. It was agonising. I had a lecture later on and I wasn't about to leave the lesson without having a taste of moving on the roads.
Finally, Steve taught me the gear shifts and gave the words I'd been waiting for all day. " You may go." Suddenly, I felt utterly helpless. As I stepped on the accelerator, the engine give an annoyed purr and I shifted my foot in a hurry. " Too much," he said. " You got to be gentle..." I managed to find that elusive point and bingo~ I was moving.. right into the car in front. Steve seized the wheel and saved the car from looking like a wax model on acid.
It was so hard finding the balance not crawling forward and not totalling the car parked ahead. I ended up choosing to do the former. I eased the car down the quiet residential area, praying i wouldn't mow anyone over or drive it through someone's back yard. My line of passage took the appearance of a drunken driver at work. Basically, I couldn't drive in a straight line.
After struggling with the pedals and the wheel, I finally managed to find a comfortable paze to cruise at. " I'm not controlling the pedals," Steve told me. " Good! Keep going!" Feeling more confident, I threw the car into gear two and approached the intersection where I merrily stalled in the middle of the road.
My next lesson is on THursday, and I suggest you keep of the road then.
My name is Kill... Road Kill. I
18 years of being stuck at the back seat of the car watching people drive me around, a few weeks of watching my friends vrooming around in their own set of wheels and I was ready to rumble. That's right. I'm taking to the roads!
Steve, my driving instructor, was a mild mannered old chap who explained everything in a slow, clear way that made up for his heavy accent. " Watch and learn," he told me in his unhurried way. He then proceeded to pelt me with a myriad of confusing instructions. All I managed to figure out at the end of it was that I needed to rent an octupus. " See... so easy," he pulled the car to a stop and beamed at me. Easy? I think I need the coordination of a gymnast on a balance beam to handle this.
The wheels in my head were whirling as fast as the gears of the car while I tried to remember the intricate sequence of "to-dos". THe only difference was that my neurons were near the point of overheating. He spent an hour going through everything from mirror adjustment to the dashboard. It was agonising. I had a lecture later on and I wasn't about to leave the lesson without having a taste of moving on the roads.
Finally, Steve taught me the gear shifts and gave the words I'd been waiting for all day. " You may go." Suddenly, I felt utterly helpless. As I stepped on the accelerator, the engine give an annoyed purr and I shifted my foot in a hurry. " Too much," he said. " You got to be gentle..." I managed to find that elusive point and bingo~ I was moving.. right into the car in front. Steve seized the wheel and saved the car from looking like a wax model on acid.
It was so hard finding the balance not crawling forward and not totalling the car parked ahead. I ended up choosing to do the former. I eased the car down the quiet residential area, praying i wouldn't mow anyone over or drive it through someone's back yard. My line of passage took the appearance of a drunken driver at work. Basically, I couldn't drive in a straight line.
After struggling with the pedals and the wheel, I finally managed to find a comfortable paze to cruise at. " I'm not controlling the pedals," Steve told me. " Good! Keep going!" Feeling more confident, I threw the car into gear two and approached the intersection where I merrily stalled in the middle of the road.
My next lesson is on THursday, and I suggest you keep of the road then.
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