Confession time: I'm approaching 21 and still don't have my driver's license.
It's not that I'm incapable or never touched a steering wheel before - I passed the permit exam with flying colors, know how to steer and stop and signal, and can get you to your destination in one piece... so long as the route doesn't include any highways, adverse weather conditions, blind turns, K-turns, and turns of phrase which remind everyone of my automotive mediocrity. No, my problem is that I happened to roll a d6 in dexterity, a d15 in road-related anxiety, failed the "operate a motor vehicle without incident" skill check, and have yet to gain enough experience points to attempt it again.
Curse you, predisposed genetics and table top metaphors only I find remotely funny.
I'll admit that I don't have the best track record when it comes to driving. The warning signs were clear enough from the get-go that I put off getting my permit until I was 18, but that didn't help much in practice. The phobia of crashing overrode instinct & common sense to such an intense degree that things which should have been second nature required intense concentration and talking through to get right. Practicing barely helped: "I usually see some sort of improvement in the first two hours of the first lesson" my driving instructor put it, and I didn't need to hear the rest. (I proved him wrong and got the "competent driver" certificate required for the actual DMV test, but that was two years ago - who knows if it's even valid anymore?) My first actual car accident (I'm not counting the many, many near-misses) involved a stoplight, some minor cosmetic damage, a brand-new Mercedes-Benz, and a severely bruised ego.
"You have a lot of talents, Jilli," my mom always reassured me before getting in on the passenger side and sprouting 5 new gray hairs as soon as she closed the door. "Driving just doesn't happen to be one of them."
I blame the "scare em straight" assemblies tailor made to traumatize anyone predisposed to any sort of anxiety. I only got four things out of those seminars: One, the leading cause of death in the 18-44 demographic is car accidents, and the odds of it happening to you are 1:606. Two, the Grim Reaper will ALWAYS be tailgating you, because even if you do everything right some boneheaded drunk driver is primed to f*** things up. Three, if the testimonies of loved ones are anything to go by, having a sudden premonition or profound realization about the meaning of life results in an 110 percent spike in mortality rate. And four, a serious accident occurs every fifteen minutes, which is a lovely thought that most certainly does not keep me up at night, why do you ask?
Now, those takeaways may be a tad hyperbolic, but they arguably have to be when you’re catering to an audience consisting of kids who likely won't give a rat’s ass about anything (much less being cautious) unless it involves DEATH and VIOLENCE and DISMEMBERMENT. Unfortunately, such moving displays of pathos backfire horribly when those who developed severe OCD in second grade after a hand-washing assembly are also in the audience. Once something gets in my head, positive or negative, it tends to stick around and nest for a long while; such fixations can have impacts good and bad, but I do my best to keep them in check regardless. Throw a curveball by tapping into the primal fear of human mortality, however, and all bets are off - yes, I'll find a means of dealing with it in a healthy manner, but I can't stop those thoughts from assaulting me at the worst possible moments. So to the people who run these assemblies I say "mission accomplished" - you transformed me into a cautious driver, alright, but that cautiousness is amped up to such an absurd degree that I loop right back to "incredibly dangerous," thus making our roads even more dangerous than they were before. A round of applause for our education system, everybody!!
So that's why I don't drive - at least not yet. I'll get my license some day - it'll be an emblem of independence, mark the moment I faced my fears and conquered them, grant me bragging rights that I did this in spite of my family's constant (if good-natured) ribbing. But for now, I relish freedom on my bicycle and commiserate with good friends who can't drive to save their lives, either.
