Teenage Mutant Drivers

Index

5.February.2004

I am a horrible driver. I’ve been doing it wrong for years and I had no idea. Although I have caused no accidents, nor participated in any collisions requiring bodywork or insurance agents, I am still Driving Impaired. The fact that I’ve never had a ticket doesn’t mean that I know what I’m doing either. How could I have gone for years and years thinking—nay believing that I was a safe and conscientious driver, you might ask? The answer is clear. I never had a teenager in my car with a Drivers Permit in her purse. Not only does she hold a legal document, entitling her to get behind the wheel of a car whilst one of her adult progenitors white-knuckles the dashboard, it appears that her license is also gives her…er, license to tell me every move I make is the wrong one.

“MOM, GO!” she hollered at me the other day.

I hit the gas and chirped the tires due to the adrenaline rush she’d just given me. I haven’t burned rubber since I was in high school, and I haven’t had anyone yell at my driving since my mother was teaching me to drive when I was a teenager. She scared me.

“Why did you yell at me?” I said, clutching my chest, through which I was sure my middle-aged heart was about to burst.

“The light turned GREEN Mom”

Oh, well then. I guess she would have been negligent in her duties had she not yelled at me a nanosecond after the light had changed. I thanked her profusely for sparing me the embarrassment of sitting at a green light for half a second. I am obviously inept in recognizing when the light changes.

“HEY! You’re NOT supposed to do THAT!” she sneered with arms folded across her teenage chest as I made a right turn and went directly into the inside lane instead of going to the outside lane and then signaling. “Our Drivers Ed teacher told us that our parents have a bad habit of doing that and we should tell you that you’re doing it all wrong.” Note to self: Be sure to thank that Drivers Ed teacher in an appropriate manner. This should involve shaving cream and his car. Another experience I haven’t had since I was in high school.

I am not normally a yeller. I do my very best not to raise my voice at my children, because I know how I felt when I was yelled at as a child. Since the advent of my Teenage Mutant Driver, I have been known to raise my voice on numerous occasions. I make no apologies for this occurrence because it serves to save my life.

“STOP STOP STOP STOP!” This is me yelling at my Teenage Mutant Driver as she pulls out into oncoming traffic that is heading straight for me on the passenger side of the vehicle. So she does. Stop, I mean. Right in the middle of the intersection, forcing the driver coming at me to slam on his/her brakes.

“Back up! Back up!” I loudly instruct her, as the oncoming vehicle slides towards us.

Obviously I frightened her, because she slammed it into reverse and chirped the tires. In all my years of driving, I doubt I have ever managed to burn rubber in reverse. Score one point for the offspring in the Surpassing Parental Expectations category.

“Did you LOOK before you backed up?” I asked, again alta voz. I knew the answer to this question, but I had obviously succumbed to the same disease my parents suffered and was now asking questions that needed no answers.

Later, after I was able to get my pulse down into the Not Having A Heart Attack Range, I asked her if she knew what she had done wrong. Her answer surprised me.

“I had the right of way! I got to the stop sign first!”

She had a point. She had reached the stop sign first. I patiently explained to her that while yes, she had reached the stop sign before the driver on the other side of the intersection, the traffic to the right and left of us did not have to stop and didn’t care who reached the stop sign first.

Teenage Mutant Drivers are not known for taking criticism well, or believing that their parental units know more than they do on any given subject, including driving. Thus, I continue to face abuse.

Sometimes I am weak and believe what people say to me about me. In order to combat this somewhat fragile aspect of my personality, I now stand in front of my bathroom mirror every morning and repeat the following mantra: I AM A GOOD DRIVER. I AM A SAFE DRIVER. I AM NOT INSANE. DEATH TO ALL DRIVERS ED TEACHERS.

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I am afraid to confess that I was a teenage mutant driver. And I do remember yelling at my mom for the same thing--turning into the far lane instead of the near lane and then signalling. What you might try in your (our) defense is explaining that in busy traffic, if you do it RIGHT, you will wait forever. Why is it that turning on my signal makes the drivers on all sides think they need to speed up and block my efforts? I swear Austin drivers iron the courtesy right out of a body! Don't have a teenager yet--so now I have something else to look forward to. All I'm hoping for is that she doesn't do to me what I did to my own mother--flipped her the bird, parked the car, exited and walked home, leaving her stunned in the passenger seat. We never tried driver's ed together again. (I learned from my boyfriend after he got HIS license.) Thanks for the laughs!
Lisa Shirah-Hiers
Austin, TX USA -

The teenage mutant driver is wonderful !!! I lived to tell you that despite being the victim of such criticism of my own spotless driving record not once but three times! Sooooo take heart! They do eventually get their own vehicles, have to buy their own gas and car insurance... and worry about more than what Mom does when she drives !! It is scarey though, huh? Thanks for the laughs!! hugs Lee
Lee Ambrose
FL USA -

I drive for a living. i have seen everything. fortunately, people do not expect a 40 ton vehicle to start like a jackrabbit, though they often tend to forget about that inertia thingy, and expect us to stop on a dime when they run in front of us. pamela. please. for your teenager and yourself. make your daughter read this post... To Pamela's daughter: The nice man in the big truck with all the wheels does not want to run over you and squish you like a bug. Unfortunately, he will run over you and squish you like a bug if you get in front of him and stop without warning, or if you pull out into the road in front of him. The truck driver wants to deliver his freight, collect his paycheck, and go home to his family. He does not want to spend all day with the police and firemen being questioned why he killed you. He does not want to go to the hospital, as required by law, to give a sample for an alcohol test. Remember that the big truck outweighs your car 40 to 1, and that mother nature is a cast-iron bitch. She does not give you a break if you make a mistake. That 80,000 pound truck will reduce your car to something resembling those little tinfoil balls left over after a picnic, complete with the little pieces of meat stuck in them. I hope you think about that, and I hope the very idea makes you sick. I hope you think about it every time you see a big truck, and remember to be careful. I have run over a car. Nobody was hurt, but the car was destroyed. I never even saw the car until I realized that the truck was handling funny, and stopped to check why! My truck was completely undamaged.
Wayne Moore
USA -

The Hubble is overhead right now .. 1 ... 2 ... 3 .... Flash!
Barry, Minou and Princess
Winnipeg, Mb Canada -

As if teenagers don't already think they know more than their parents, now they have teachers reinforcing that belief! YIkes!!! Good luck.
Janean
Shoreline, wa USA -

You are too funny! I hope you survive the Teenage Mutant Driver. Most parents do, but I'm sure that they gain a lot of gray hair in the process.
Sarah
Seattle, USA -

Funny as usual! I remember learning to drive. I remember pointing out to my mom what our driver's ed teacher told us. I remember another driver's ed teacher (yes, I took it twice...) telling us, "these are the rules, but as you gain more experience, this is most likely what you will do..." Best of Luck! :-)
Jeri Lynn
Shoreline, WA USA -

Scripts modified from Matt Wright's guestbook. His scripts can be found at Matt's Script Archive

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