I didn’t obtain my driver’s license until I was twenty-one. It wasn’t because of legal troubles but for other reasons. One: I kept putting it off. Two: I kept failing the test. And three: I didn’t have anyone to go with me to take the test. You had to have an adult over 21 with a driver’s license of their own and my husband was always at work. In the end, I took my neighbor and friend, Eleanor, who is old enough to be my mother, with me.
All the way to the DMV Eleanor was losing her mind. “We are going to get into so much trouble,” she wailed.
Reassuringly, I answered, “No, we’re not. Everything will be just fine.”
“You’re supposed to take someone with you over the age of 21 and with a driver’s license,” she insists, “and I do not have a license!”
“Well, we got it half right,” I mused. As an afterthought I exclaimed, “I cannot believe you never got a driver’s license.”
Eleanor starts telling me a story about when she was a young girl, her dad had taken her driving in the family car. When they returned home, Eleanor drove up the drive and just kept right on going – into the family’s living room. After that, she never tried to drive again.
I went into the DMV while she waited in the car. I took my test, failed, then got back into the car I had used to get there and went back home. I did that twice. The third time Eleanor refused to go with me and I ended up taking my husband’s grandmother. I truly feel the man giving me the driver’s test felt sorry for me and passed me.