My Driving Record

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Driving is a responsibility that can't be taken lightly," a phrase that my mom has never stopped telling me, even to this ripe old age of 16. When my mom put me behind the wheel, she released a wild spirit that had been hiding within. In total, my wild, and untamed spirit has caused me to have 3 wrecks, and one traffic violation- not too shabby, don't you think? This wild and untamed spirit of mine acted similarly like a bulldozer- everything I see, I destroy.

        My first wreck occurred in the northern border of Minnesota. That previous week I had just received my permit, yes, I drove ignorantly. As I drove nervously one day, with the entire family sleeping (four of them total), the lanes on the road went from two to one"¦ my first construction driving. Basically, I felt like a sheep put in the middle of herds of wolves- all who haven't eaten in days and who are very hungry.

I woke my mom up and asked her what to do, as if I knew? She told me to follow the traffic, and pay no attention to the speed limit change, at least that's what I remember she said. Well, the traffic goes from 65 to an average of about 55, while all the time the regulated speed limit change currently said 35. So, I sit there driving 20 miles over the speed limit, in construction, when this S.U.V., with a toboggan sticking out the back, somehow, manages to hit a dead stop. I make my own attempt at stopping, and somehow manage to miss the toboggan by about one foot. On the other hand, the car behind me fails to stop in time. It swerves to the right, nails me in the back and knocks me into on-coming traffic in the left lane. While I sit there screaming- "what just happened"- my dad, who had obviously been woken up from the crash, cautiously and carefully advises me to get out of the lane before any vehicles ram us head-on, so obviously I did. My heart felt like it had just been grabbed, yanked from its position and put to rest along my temples. The results of the wreck : damages on my car of $3,000, and a learning experience that has left me with a vivid picture of a toboggan.

        My second wreck, once again in Minnesota, ended up my fault, talk about one in a million. It was a gloomy morning in St. Paul, the rain had just ceded and I sat there with strong faith in my driving capabilities, because now I had an actual license. We had just returned a movie rental, and in the midst of leaving the parking lot, my sister, Julie, begins to talk to me about boys, yeah what a valuable conversation. As I exiting the parking lot, I glanced left and began to accelerate, almost immediately I noticed a rickety old '89 Chevy coming from the left. As my memory recalls, I pressed the brake and came to a full stop; the Chevy somehow hits me, and knocks him to the other side of the road. All the while, my face turns as white as a ghost's, and my sister cries like a baby. The driver seemed pretty intelligent, but seeing I had already had a previous wreck, I pretty much new more than he did about procedure. As we exchanged our insurance cards, I glanced at the damage"¦ my car, a "˜93 Plymouth Voyager, was left untouched (except for the ugly yellow scratch from his brown car"¦ odd). His car, on the other hand, left me heart-broken. His entire right-back side was crushed. As I looked at it, I remembered that this wreck would be put on me, and I was going to have to pay for the damages (my entire summer of working down the tubes). The results of this wreck: an ugly scratch on my front bumper (which still exists), $2,000 of damage on his Chevy, and I learned how to stop"¦supposedly.

        My third and final wreck, occurred in Spring, Texas, but it never got reported- thank you God. This wreck once again involved my '93 Plymouth Voyager as it did my previous two times. ¯Isn't it ironic, yeah, I really do think¯ . In the van my brother, James, rode shotgun, while in the background some friends of mine sat busily doing their homework. As we exited Louetta, to make a U-turn so we could get on the feeder for I-45 south, I saw there was a long line of cars. While waiting in line, I began chugging that old grey matter up north and I realize that in the past 5 min. my brother has been in the car, he has griped and yelled at me at least 5 times; I made a resolve to ignore his further trepidations. The line has decreased to my van and this brand new truck in front of me. . . that truck sure did look pretty. I glance to my left and see no one, so logically I expect the truck in front of me to go. I proceed to let go of the brake, the van slowly edges forward, my brother- the all knowing one- tells me to stop, I ignore him"¦ BANG! ¯Like rain, on your wedding day¯ . We had collided, the truck speeds off as I sit there wondering, "What just happened, what was that noise?" At about that time, my brother begins to yell at me, again, yeah, as if that's going to help anything. Through him screaming and shouting I make out something about a truck, I look forward, and see the truck speeding off like the road-runner from the coyote; I then check our the damage done"¦nothing, I didn't see a single scratch on his truck. So I logically reply, "What are you talking about," he just tells me to go, so I did. Now, I attempt at driving on the feeder as calm as I can, and James is still yelling at me, just imagine diffusing a bomb, and listening to the Micro Machine Man at the same time"¦ piece of cake. My brother threatens that if I don't tell mom, he will, so I surrender, and tell mom that evening"¦ big mistake. Earlier that week, I had been busted for "˜accidentally' running a stop sign. ¯ It's like a traffic jam, when you were already late¯ . Like every other sane mother out there, my mom doubted my driving skills. As a reasonable mother she grounds me, and to this very day my grounding continues. The results of this wreck: no indications of a mark whatsoever on the van, and never drive with my brother.

        "Driving is a responsibility that can't be taken lightly," yeah right"¦ my van has survived one high speed wreck on the back-side, two wrecks in the front, and no one was hurt. Get ready world; here comes Steve in his mini-van with his radio loud and clear"¦Â¯Isn't it ironic, yeah I really do think¯.