Little Plastic Cards

Barring untoward incidents, tomorrow morning I take the road test for my first-ever driver’s license. I am 29. I got my first permit when I was 17, and I have never had an actual license.

I wish the test were already over. I’m not nervous yet, but I know I will be tomorrow, and I hate that part and I want to skip it. The test only lasts about 15 minutes – less if you completely screw up – but I’d like to skip that too. I’ve wanted to skip every driving lesson I’ve had since I started learning how to do this, and every expensive lesson I’ve had since deciding I had to get this done before I turn 30.

But if I can get through that 15 minutes tomorrow morning without killing anyone or causing major property damage or doing something big and stupid or several trivial and stupid things that add up, I will have permission from the state of Texas to rent or buy a car. I will not get funny looks from bank personnel and other official entities because the plastic card I carry says “Identification Card” instead of “Driver’s License.” I will not feel awkward if someone leaves me in an illegally parked car while they run into a store, because I know I can’t move it while they’re gone even if it’s in the way.

I will just be a normal, ordinary grown-up.