Unemployment, Day 23: Storytime! Part Deux

Having corrected my course, I made my way towards the maneuverability course, which was nothing more than five cones set up in a deserted area of the parking lot. I stopped before entering the coned rectangle, and wiped my hands on my jeans. My palms were sweating like it was their job. My confidence was shaken by my inability to follow simple instructions like 'go to the right.' Would I be able to do this activity which I had so adeptly completed several weeks before? It was do or die time, and I was about to find out just what I was made of.

"Pull forward and go to the right and stop," the examiner said flatly. "Don't forget, you lose five points for every time you stop without having completed the course." He seemed helpful, although he never looked up from his clipboard. I imagined that I must be the ten thousandth kid to which he had given a driving test, and that all of this must be dreadfully boring to him at this point. I thought that I would get this over with quickly and perfectly, and that he would be so impressed with my ability at maneuvering what was surely a boat of a car that he would tell me to skip the road portion of the test and simply give me my license right there. My confidence had returned. But for how long?

I pulled the car forward and to the right with ease, maneuvering past the cones smoothly, like a duck gliding across a still pond, my hands spinning the steering wheel, my feet caressing the gas and brake pedals as if the car was an extension of myself. I was one with the Cadillac, and the Cadillac was one with me. The instructor simply grunted. "Okay," he said, still not looking up from his clipboard. "Now go back."

This was the challenge. To back up through the maneuverability course, one had to draw upon everything that he had learned as a driver's ed student. Hand positions on the steering wheel. Awareness of the location of all of the cones. And, above all else, mirrors. One could successfully maneuver the course with ease by relying solely on his or her mirrors.

It was at that moment that I forgot how to use my mirrors. I forgot that I even had mirrors. The car was an extension of me, and I do not have mirrors, so why should the car? It was preposterous to think that mirrors would help me in any way whatsoever. It was also at that moment that I realized that I had never completed maneuverability in this behemoth of a car. The car that the driving instructor had driven was a Honda Civic, which was at least half the size of the car I was currently driving. Finally, I realized a third thing at this moment. I realized that I had no idea what I was doing. I was screwed. It was going to take one thing to get me through this. I needed a miracle.

Next: the miracle.