Voice Exercise

Step 1:

Getting my drivers license was quite the process. The driving school that I went to had a classroom the size of a large van. I really didn’t learn much during the theory classes. Most of what I learned when it comes to driving I learned with my dad in the passenger seat. He forced me to drive everywhere for the 12 months I had my learners. I was among the last of my friends to start my classes so I was determined to catch up to them. I never missed a class and I completed my classes so quickly that my instructor had to recount the amount of days I did it in 3 times just to be sure I hadn’t completed my classes in less than the legally required minimum time frame. I ended up being the first of my friends to get my full license. The day of my exam, my grandmother drove 2 hours from her house to drive me to my test in Dorval because both my parents were working. I showed up and waited 2 hours for my turn. At the test, you have the option of bringing your own car or renting one there. I brought my dads car, but it has its fair share of issues. It took me 5 minutes to convince the evaluator that all the warning lights on the dash weren’t actually a problem. He eventually decided to move on, but he wouldn’t let me take the test in that car because the middle brake light was burnt out. I then went inside the SAAQ to try and rent one of their cars but they wouldn’t let me because I had been waiting so long that they had closed the rental service for the day. My only option was to reschedule it for either the next day, during one of two in-class writing periods for my final French assignment or 2 months later. I chose the next day and brought my moms car in instead. That day everything went off without a hitch and I got my license on the first try. I somehow ended up getting it before any of my friends. They’re now approaching the end of year 3 of having a learners. It doesn’t matter much to them because I’m the designated lift giver anyways.

Step 2:

Getting my drivers license was quite the process. My driving school was no help, and I can thank my dad for teaching me everything I know about driving. Because I was the last of my friends to start classes, I was determined to finish up ASAP. When I finished, my driving instructor had to triple count the days it took me to complete my theory to make sure I hadn’t done it illegally fast. My grandmother drove in from up north to drive me to the SAAQ the day of my driving test. For the test you are given the option of bringing a car or renting one of theirs. I brought my dad’s. I convinced the examiner that all the warning lights on my dash were just there because of an electrical issue (which is true) but none of that mattered because I wasn’t allowed to take the test because my middle brake light was burnt out. I had waited so long at the SAAQ that the rental service had closed. They told me to either come back the following day or two months later. I was back the next morning in a different car, even though I was supposed to be writing my French class final assignment during that time. I passed on the first shot. I even ended up getting my license before any of my friends that had started before me. Unfortunately, that makes me the designated lift giver all the time.

Step 3:

The journey on which I had to embark to obtain the holy grail that is my license was a much more tedious and gruelling series of events than anticipated. The establishment that was meant to nourish the seed that is my capacity to operate a motor vehicle until it could be considered a flower of vehicular prowess was not much larger than the inside of a beetles eyeball. Many a time I showed up eager to learn everything there is to know about driving, but it was in vain. I learned next to nothing during those tedious, arduous lessons. It was truly the one that I call father that taught me how to operate the steel horse that is a car. All through 365 days of extensive and gruelling training he taught me to develop good habits that I would one day come to shatter into a million pieces and return to driving with a mere two fingers on the wheel instead of the secure, old-fashioned 10 and 2 positioning. Of all of my peers, I wasn’t the first, second, third, fourth, or fifth to start my classes, but the final one. I made catching up to them, and even surpassing my fellow drivers my sole purpose in life.