Once my brother had healed sufficiently he needed to get a drivers license. He hasn’t driven in twenty years and no license for twenty-five. It was time.
I needed to get him up to speed so I had him get behind the wheel of my Ford Ranger Pick-Up. After he adjusted the seat, mirrors and wheel he started pumping the gas pedal. I asked what he was doing. He said he was sending gas to the carburetor. I explained that all cars now use fuel injection and that pumping the pedal would do nothing. He’s been away from the world so long I call him Rip Van Stupid.
He drove too close, too fast, too few turn signals and too fast around corners. I tried to channel my 37 years of UPS experience into him. I gave him a crash course in driving. He had no idea you used a turn signal at stop signs. Minutes in the car with him were like hours. Hours of frustration and fear.
Finally the time came and he drove to Parma for the test. I had to yell to stop twice as he rushed up behind someone as we prepared to stop. We found the BMV and he parked so badly that the lady came out and asked us to move. It was a bad sign.
Finally someone came out and took him for his test. He was allowed to miss 25 points and still pass. I watched him take the maneuverability test and cringed as he hit the cones, twice. Each hit of the cone took off ten points. It looked grim. I closed my eyes and tried to think good thoughts. It wasn’t easy.
Time passed slowly and he came in with a smile. He passed. I have to assume he got a pity pass. That is the only explanation. Wow.
Once he gets a car I will be free. He can go to his appointments and even look for a job. I will leave this circle of Hell.