Welcome To The Bitchery
Welcome To The Bitchery

I know this is an ad, but it’s particularly cute. And it has me thinking about my driving lessons I had as a teen. So tell me about your driving lesson memories.

I was not allowed in the driver’s seat until I was 15. For some strange reason, my parents thought that I should have automatically known how to drive, like my cousin who started at 13 by stealing her parent’s car and hanging out with people much older.


Anyway, my first teacher was also my high school algebra teacher. He was a very dull old man, who I mainly remember for having the class rule of, “You can talk in class as much as you want, so long as it’s about math”. He pretty much told me that I drove like a chicken with its head cut off. I took my 3 lessons with him that were included in the cost of driver’s ed, and then I learned in an empty Bingo parking lot. My parents were so anxious that they gave up pretty soon after. So I didn’t actually get my license until I was an adult and paid for private lessons on my own. Two lessons with a private instructor undid all of the anxiety from my previous lessons. And that’s how I learned that sometimes it’s worth the money to pay a pro!

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