Story 453: Failed Inspection Fallout

             (In a Motor Vehicles inspection bay, Friend 1 and Friend 2 wait in a nearby roped-off area)

Friend 1: So, we’re making pretty good time today, I think.  Sorry you had to come with me to drop off the loaner and pick up the old girl – (Gestures to the car currently getting a physical by a technician) from the repair shop, but at least we can go to the beach right from here instead of having to take the extra time to come back and pick you up and then go.  We should get a spot right on the ocean at this rate.

Friend 2: (Typing a work e-mail on the phone to pass the time) Uh-huh.  You know you could’ve avoided all that if you’d brought the car in for inspection earlier in the month instead of leaving it last-minute, yes?

Friend 1: It is not last-minute; I’ve got a whole `nother week before the sticker expires!  And I was going to bring it in earlier, but life happened, and then the Service Engine light decided to make its stage debut – couldn’t exactly leave that on, bold as brass, when I brought it here, now could I?

Friend 2: And then the shop found about six other things that needed to be replaced a year ago.

Friend 1: It was still safe to drive!

Friend 2: Yeah, a year ago.  You’ve had so many parts replaced, your car’s turning into the Ship of Theseus.

Friend 1: I… don’t know anyone named Theseus, what?

Friend 2: (Finishes the e-mail and finally turns to Friend 1) It’s a paradox: Theseus with the minotaur and the labyrinth and abandoning Ariadne who helped him with all that  –

Friend 1: Oh yeah, that dude.

Friend 2: – had a ship that took him around for those shenanigans, but gradually every single plank was replaced so at some point, could you say that the ship was even the original ship anymore?

Friend 1: (Tilts head to think) …In spirit?

Friend 2: Forget it; bottom line is, you’ve had so many repairs done that you probably should trade it in before it gets any worse.

Friend 1: You hush your mouth – it still runs fine, and I just got brand-new brakes and semi-brand-new what’s-it arms and sort-of new windshield wipers and passably new tires so it’s absolutely perfect right now exactly the way it is!

(Technician slaps a “REJECTED” sticker on the car’s windshield; Friend 1’s head whips around at the sound and unblinkingly stares at the glaring red-and-black notice)

Friend 1: [Deadly silence]

Friend 2: (In a low voice) Uh-oh….

Friend 1: [Deadly silence]

Technician: (To Friend 1) Can I speak to you for a few moments, please?

Friend 1: (To Friend 2, in a semi-choked voice) Would you excuse me while I deal with this travesty?

Friend 2: Just remember to breathe.

Friend 1: Yessss s’mother.  (Exits the waiting area and passes the car, patting the hood lightly as it weeps) There-there, baby – Momma’s gonna get this allll straightened out.  (To Technician) Yes, my good state worker, what seems to be the confusion here?

Technician: You’re gonna have to bring the car back for inspection.  (Hands over several forms) Read the pamphlet, follow the instructions, and bring the car back after you’ve completed a drive cycle.

Friend 1: Forgive my diminished mental comprehension that apparently has struck me all of a sudden, but at the moment your words bear little meaning to me – this car is in perfect condition; better, even, since I literally just drove it in from the repair shop!

Technician: Well, that’s the problem.

Friend 1: But the wonderful service techs there repaired it so beautifully!

Technician: I’m sure they did, but they also shut off the battery which reset the on-board diagnostic system and now we can’t do a reading on it for the inspection.

Friend 1: Those jerks!

Technician: The battery’s always turned off so they don’t get electrocuted while working on the car.

Friend 1: I retract my slander.  So now what?

Technician: Like I said, read the pamphlet so you know what to do to complete a drive cycle – you can check your car’s manual, too – and bring it back for inspection after that’s done.  You get an extra month for it to pass.  (Friend 1 stares blankly at the forms) OK?  Can you leave now so we can continue with the miles-long line that we get here all day every day?

Friend 1: (Looks up blankly) Huh?  Oh.  Right…. (Blankly gets into the car, buckles up, and nearly drives away)

Friend 2: (Scrambles out of the waiting area and into the passenger seat) Hold-on-hold-on-hold-on – (Manages to buckle up as Friend 1 speeds out of the inspection bay and autopilots through the traffic jam leaving the parking lot) You gonna be all right?  Want me to drive us to the beach?

Friend 1: (Stopped at a traffic light) It failed?  I’ve never failed inspection in my entire driving life…. (Pats the dashboard soothingly as the car momentarily stalls) It’s OK, baby, it’s not your fault.

Friend 2: Are you talking to the car?

Friend 1: (Suddenly snaps out of it as the light turns green and they continue on the road) Wait a minute, it’s not my fault, either!  Why didn’t anyone at the shop tell me to wait before taking the car in for inspection?!

Friend 2: Probably because no else does that.

Friend 1: I can’t be the only one!  And the sticker’s right there, date and all!  (Gestures with one hand at the inspection sticker, notices the “DETCEJER” above it, and shakes fist at it) And now I’ve got a modern-day scarlet letter!  Word.

Friend 2: I don’t think it’s their job to monitor your inspection schedule.

Friend 1: Well – then – I am going to write them a very sternly worded SUGGESTION!

Friend 2: Splendid.  The beach is in the opposite direction, by the way.

Friend 1: FIDDLESTICKS!  (Plows through a U-turn while yelling out the window) Out of the way!  I’m driving a failed-inspection car so I’ve got nothing to lose!

Friend 2: (Head buried in hands to block the view) Please let us make it there in one piece.

(At the beach, Friend 2 is reading a book while relaxed in a chair under the umbrella while Friend 1, sitting on a blanket, agitatedly reads the failed-inspection paperwork while scrolling through a phone)

Friend 2: You know, the sun is shining brightly, the beach is basically clean, the ocean is beautifully crashing itself onto the shore, the out-of-school children and their adults are mostly behaving themselves, and you’re not taking in any of it because of one minor inconvenience.

Friend 1: (Turns slowly in horror to Friend 2) “Inconvenience”?  “Minor”?

Friend 2: Yeah – I read the papers on the way here and you really only have to drive the car on the highway a bit, stop-and-go a few times, and let it sit overnight; you’re practically there now, I bet.

Friend 1: Did you also read the part where I can still receive a citation if I let it go past the end of this month?!

Friend 2: (Eyebrows knot in confusion) Don’t remember that – it said you have until the end of next month now, where’s you see that other bit?

Friend 1: Here!  (Holds up the phone showing the Motor Vehicles’ site detailing failed inspections) The scarlet word won’t save me – I can get pulled over and thrown into jail at any moment!

Friend 2: Hardly – you’d probably just get fined.

Friend 1: Not feeling better!

Friend 2: (Starts burying feet in the sand) Face it, you’re just upset because you failed something that basically was avoidable if the timing was better and you’d known what might happen, and you now have to spend extra time, money, and gas to have it resolved.

Friend 1: (Returns to reading the forms) Those facts are not in dispute.  (Lowers the papers with a sudden slam) And now I have to wait on that super-long line AGAIN!

Friend 2: (Shrugs while sipping water) Go early in the morning.

Friend 1: And sacrifice my sleep?!  (Gasps) And what if it FAILS again?!  What am I gonna do then?!  How many times can I fail inspection before something happens?!  (Suddenly stands and runs into the ocean) This whole week is ruined!  (Dives into the water and starts punching the waves as fellow beachgoers cheer)

Friend 2: (Returns to reading the book) Your own worst enemy – ooh, the butler actually did do it, should’ve known that was coming.

 ONE WEEK LATER

(In the Motor Vehicles inspection bay, the car is being reinspected as Friend 1 bites nails while standing in the waiting area)

Technician: (Scrapes off the stickers and adds a new one dated two years in the future) You’re all set – have a good day!

Friend 1: (Yanks nails out of mouth) Wait – that’s it?

Technician: Yep!  And as an added bonus, since it’s barely 7 in the morning I’m happy for you for the next five minutes!

Friend 1: (Leaves the waiting area) No, wait, you probably don’t remember me from last week –

Technician: Nope!

Friend 1: (Hands over papers) My car failed inspection then, so these said I have to bring them back now – isn’t there something else that needs to be done for this, like balloons and streamers or something?

Technician: Sure.  (Takes the papers, crumbles them into a ball, and tosses that into a nearby trash can) Sweet!  Three points!  (Turns back to Friend 1) Seriously: get outta here now.

Friend 1: OK, thanks!  (Dives into the car and speeds off)

Technician: (Turns back to face the entrance to the bay; smile drops when seeing the ginormous line that was not there several minutes ago) And so it continues….

Friend 1: (Driving back home, rubs the dashboard soothingly) It’s all right, it’s over now…. (Cell phone rings; Friend 1 answers it on speaker) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Voice) So, what’s the verdict?  Pass or fail again?

Friend 1: How’d you know I’d’ve been there and had it done by now?

Friend 2: I know you.

Friend 1: Smug.  It passed, woo-hoo!

Friend 2: Thank goodness – now we can all breathe in peace.

Friend 1: Oh hardy-ha-ha, you’re no help whatsoever.

Friend 2: Hey, I was there the first time!  Only because we had plans for later, but still.

Friend 1: Yeah, yeah.  Anyway, you’ll be relieved to know the Ship of Theseus is still sailing smoothly; I have a new sticker that will ward off the well-intentioned monitors for the next two years; and – (Eyes cut over to the dashboard) and –

Friend 2: And?

Friend 1: AND THE SERVICE ENGINE LIGHT’S BACK ON AGAIN!

Friend 2: At least it waited until after the inspection this time.

Friend 1: True.

Story 378: Just a Little Snow

 (Friend 1 rings Friend 2’s doorbell)

Friend 2: (Opens the front door in surprise) Heyyyy… what’re you doing here?

Friend 1: (Holds up bags filled with junk food) It’s our Super Bowl Party!

Friend 2: We don’t do that.

Friend 1: It’s our Valentine’s Day Junk Food Fest!

Friend 2: We don’t do that, either.

Friend 1: All right, I’m just bored.

Friend 2: I’d say “Come on in then” but we’re supposed to get about two feet of snow tonight – didn’t you hear the weather?

Friend 1: I did, and fail to see your point.

Friend 2: You might get stuck here if you stay too late.  Or at all, for that matter.

Friend 1: HA!  I was born of the North-Northeast America – I laugh in the face of feet of snow!  (Walks past Friend 2 and dives onto the couch)

 FOUR HOURS LATER

(While watching a movie and eating all the junk)

Friend 1: I’ve seen this thing a hundred times and I still always think that guy’ll live at the end.

Friend 2: That guy’s a serial killer!

Friend 1: There’s that one moment of possible redemption – the movie should end there, while I still have hope for happiness.

Friend 2: Where’s the fictional justice in that?  (Glances toward a window) Oh whoa, it’s really comin’ down.

Friend 1: Hm?  (Eats some more popcorn while looking at the window) Eh – no biggie.

Friend 2: You probably should get going; it’ll take forever to clean off your car even now and the roads’ll be terrible.

Friend 1: And miss the end of the movie?!

Friend 2: You already know how it ends!

Friend 1: And I want to see it again!  As for the rest of that – (Waves dismissively at the lint storm outside) I’ll take care of it tomorrow.

Friend 2: Oh, so you’re just inviting yourself to stay the night, is that it?

Friend 1: (Taps foot on what turns out to be an overnight bag) You won’t even know I’m here.

Friend 2: Says you.

 THE NEXT MORNING

 Friend 2: (Steps over Friend 1 in a sleeping bag on the living room floor in order to look out the window) Ooh, they barely plowed the street, and when I shovel the driveway that’s when they’ll come by and plow me in again, I just know it!

Friend 1: (Stirs noisily) Huh?  Shovel?

Friend 2: Yes, the things those of us who don’t have the luxury of a parking garage on a city street have to use.

Friend 1: (Stands and looks out the window) Pfft.  You don’t need to shovel that.

Friend 2: How else am I gonna get to work?

Friend 1: Call out?

Friend 2: Not at my job.

Friend 1: (Stares challengingly at the frozen field staring back) I’ll take care of it.

(Outside and so bundled they can barely move, Friend 1 burrows through the snow in the driveway to climb through the driver’s side door of the car parked behind Friend 2’s car)

Friend 1: (Shouting through the open window over the wind and snow resettling around the car) You see, you don’t even have to clean off your car – just turn it on and everything melts!  (Turns on the car to demonstrate)

Friend 2: Not fast enough!  There’s about three feet of snow all over!

Friend 1: It’s not a matter of degree, it’s a matter of technique.  You must WILL the car through the snow!

Friend 2: What?

Friend 1: Observe.  (Revs the engine a bit, floors the gas pedal, changes from Reverse to Drive several times to rock the car, then suddenly bursts backward through the snow in the driveway and out onto the street) See?  Piece of cake.  Want a ride to work?

Friend 2: (Staring with feet slowly freezing) Sure, why not.

(On the highway, Friend 1 tailgates a plow/sander truck)

Friend 2: You may want to back up a bit – and slow down a bit –

Friend 1: And let the snow immediately cover the roads again?!  Never!  (Turns a corner at high speed, fishtailing slightly)

Friend 2: (Holding onto the passenger side window) Easy there, partner!

Friend 1: If we slow down or – heavens forbid – stop, we’ll never be able to start again!  The wintry mix’ll have us!

Friend 2: I don’t want to wind up hugging a telephone pole or another car, either!

Friend 1: We won’t!  Not as long as we show no hesitation, show no fear!  (Shakes a fist while driving through a yellow traffic light as it turns red)

Friend 2: And what if that was red before we got there?

Friend 1: Then I’d’ve just kept coasting till it turned green again.  (Swerves into Friend 2’s parking lot at work)

Friend 2: You can drop me off over there, and please don’t hit any of my coworkers on your way out.                                              

Friend 1: Nonsense!  I’m skipping work today, so I’ll park here and explore the Magical Winter Wonderland all around us until your shift’s over.

Friend 2: Oh-kay, but there seem to be a lot of spots not really plowed out yet –

Friend 1: CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!  (Slams the car onto a snowbank, managing to stay between the parking spot lines; shuts off the engine and unlocks the doors) Have a nice day at work, sweetie!

Friend 2: (Gingerly emerges from the car) Gee, thanks – hope your car’s still in one piece by the time I get back.

Friend 1: No faith whatsoever.

 EIGHT-AND-A-HALF HOURS LATER

 (Friend 2 returns to Friend 1’s car; the snow never stopped and the car has been buried again)

Friend 2: (Gingerly lands on the passenger seat) So, enjoy your romp?

Friend 1: Yeah, for a few minutes; the snow in my face got tiresome, so I came back here and napped for the rest of the day.  (Turns on the engine)

Friend 2: Well it looks like you got plowed in a bit so you might have to dig out your back tires.

Friend 1: Please.  (With squealing tires, reverses out of the spot by slamming through the snow)

Friend 2: (Holding onto the car ceiling) You sure this isn’t a tank?!

Friend 1: (Cackles wildly) You wish!  (Flies out of the parking lot and onto the snowy streets, with giant waves of dirty slush cascading on either side of the car all the way)

Friend 2: Wait a minute, what about the snow on the roof of this thing?

Friend 1: I told you, it all melts off!  My car is magic, I say!

Friend 2: Whatever – as long as it doesn’t fly off onto someone’s windshield.

(They plow, skid, swerve, and bounce the entire way back to Friend 2’s house and bump up onto the packed driveway)

Friend 2: (Falls out of the car onto a snow mattress; holds onto the car door to stand up again) Well, thanks for the lift, and be safe getting home, OK?

Friend 1: Do you know who you’re talking to?!  (After Friend 2 flings the door shut and backs away, Friend 1 throws the car into reverse, stalls, and then stares at the dashboard in horror) Ah!  This can’t be happening!

Friend 2: What, you finally got stuck in the snow?

Friend 1: No – I ran out of gas!

Story 359: All Roads Lead to I-Don’t-Know-Where

          (At an office, Friend 2 types frantically while darting glances at the time in the lower right-hand corner of the computer monitor)

           Friend 2: There’s still time – (Type-type-type-type) I can make it – (Type-type-type-E-mail Alert – asdfghjkl;) Guess that settles that.  (Pulls out a cell phone, selects one of the contacts, and props the phone against an ear while resuming typing)

            Friend 1: (On the phone) Yeah, what’s up?

            Friend 2: [Disgusted sigh]

            Friend 1: That sounds like a work-related disgusted sigh.

            Friend 2: You’d be right. I hate doing this to you, but I’m gonna have to cancel for tonight: I’ve been bombarded with requests all day in multiple media, and just now I got a notice for something that has to be done before tomorrow so I’m gonna be here for at least another two hours finishing all this up.  It’s as if I did NOTHING ALL DAY LONG!  Sorry.

            Friend 1: Don’t be – I completely understand and refuse to join the treadmill you’re on.  Hope you don’t mind if I go ahead and check out this place tonight anyway?  `Cause I’ve been kind of looking forward to it.

            Friend 2: No, please, go have a blast.  The whole area sounds pretty neat; what’s it called again, a mall town?

            Friend 1: The term is “metroburb.”  And I’ll really just be going to the pop-up drive-in movie theater, but I also might check out some of the trendy office-stores in the main building and drive through the carbon copy housing developments just to freak out the neighbors.

            Friend 2: (Backspacing an entire paragraph) That’s great – I’ll still give you money for the movie ticket, though.

          Friend 1: Then you’d be giving me $0; it was a freebie from… something apparently not important enough for my brain to remember.

              Friend 2: OK, thanks.  And call me later and let me know what it all was like there.

              Friend 1: But of course.

 SEVERAL DAYS LATER

            (In an office breakroom)

            Coworker 1: (To Friend 2) You look tired.

            Friend 2: (Stares balefully at Coworker 1) When is it ever a good time to tell that to someone?

            Coworker 1: Thought it sounded sympathetic.

          Friend 2: It would, if you weren’t the cause of all my late nights this week!  (Aggressively bites into a bagel)

            Coworker 1: Well.  Guess that’s the last time I graciously offer you to help me with my overdue projects.  (Leaves)

            Friend 2: (Stares at the bagel) I was this close to bouncing you off their head.  But I love you too much.  (Devours the rest)

            Coworker 2: (Sits at the table next to Friend 2 and starts eating a salad) Sorry all this stuff lately made you miss out on the movie at the office village the other night.

            Friend 2: Thanks.  And I think it’s actually called an “urban suburb” – no that’s not right –

            Coworker 2: Whatever it is, it seems nifty – you hear from your friend yet on how it all looked?

            Friend 2: (Freezes) You know, I never did hear back….

MEANWHILE

            (In the blazing sun, Friend 1 drives through winding, endless roads)

            Friend 1: (Voiceover) Pilot’s Log: Day 3 of my journey through the metroburb, AKA Circle 10 of Dante’s Inferno.  I have long since given up hope of seeing another human being ever again.  The steaming paved roads are surrounded by carefully regimented trees and flowering bushes, looping in on themselves in never-ending rows of artificial greenery, the forest they replaced conspicuous in its absence.  They mock me with their enforced symmetry, the unnaturalness of their state rivalled only by the unshed tears they weep for their lost brethren cleared en masse to create this hellscape of modern living.

            I had passed the main building upon my initial entry into this cursed place, and have long since said my farewells to it – I have not clapped eyes upon it again in two days, and I have a sneaking suspicion that the pop-up drive-in movie theater was installed in the one corner of the mile-wide and mile-long parking lot that I did not drive through.  There was a good flick scheduled that night, too.

            Several hours after that midnight, I conceded defeat and attempted to navigate my way out of this black hole of a complex – for me, though, the event horizon was long gone: all the roads here are one-way and not one circled back to the direction from whence I came.

            This is one of the rare instances in my life where I regret never yielding to popular trends and installing GPS on my phone.  Or figuring out how to do that now.

            On Day 2, I spotted a family of deer and attempted to follow them home to freedom: however, traitors to their kind that they are, they seemed to have made this monstrosity their new home – which may actually have been the site of their previous home and they’re trying to make the best of things, so never mind – and they merely frolicked into the backyard of some human dwelling-in-progress, so they were no help whatsoever.

            I next followed the path of a flock of migrating geese, driving across the horrifically manicured medians when necessary just to keep them in sight – alas, they too seemed to have made this their home and now, typical of the current state of things, migrate nowhere.  I last left them amusing themselves in an abomination that is an artificial pond, useless to themselves and to me equally.

            I then attempted to create a map of the roads that I already had travelled, drawn on a bunch of take-out napkins that were sitting in the glove compartment, in order to locate the correct road out of here by process of elimination.  Having failed both Art and Geography in my younger years, the map I created is nonsensical and offends the senses.  I would symbolically burn the multi-napkin wreck, if I had not failed Scouts as well.

           This morning I drank the last dregs of sustenance from my water bottle; as the nuclear sun mercilessly beats down upon me, that artificial pond is starting to look better and better....

            (Friend 1’s cell phone rings)

        Friend 1: (Signals to pull into the empty road’s shoulder, puts on the car’s hazard lights, and answers the phone) Yeah, what’s up?

            Friend 2: I see your location’s still listed as being in the metroburb – just follow the signs to Main Street and you should be out of there in five minutes.  (Ends the call)

            (Friend 1 sets the phone onto the passenger seat, looks to the right of the car, and sees a sign planted into the ground that reads “Main Street ↑”)

            Friend 1: (Signals to pull back onto the empty road; voiceover) The journey continues as this intrepid survivor endeavors to decipher the markings that apparently were placed at regular intervals along the monotonous roads and yet, somehow, overlooked.  Attempting escape velocity as the event horizon appears in the distance in three, two, one –

             (A horn blares as Friend 1 cuts across a car’s path while making a left turn onto Main Street)

          Friend 1: (Screaming out the window) At last!  I have escaped the demons of suburbia, ahahahahaha!

              Driver: Freak.

             Friend 1: (Voiceover) My trials at last are over: I have reached journey’s end, and now need a nap.  My lone takeaway of this whole ordeal: I really wanted to see that movie.

Story 320: Driving Accident-Free During the Holidays Through the Power of Music

            (Commercial)

          Narrator: (Voiceover) Ah, December.  The most wonderful time of the year, as the saying goes.  Do you spend most of it like this?  (Cut to five-lane bumper-to-bumper traffic, both directions) Or like this?  (Cut to a line of cars stuck behind one very slow car) Or like this?  (Cut to two cars simultaneously reversing out of spots in a strip mall parking lot and rear-ending each other)

            Driver 1: (Shaking fist out of the window) Look where you’re going, moron!

            Driver 2: (Shaking middle finger out of the window while driving away, leaving behind a trail of car parts) Merry Christmas, ------!

            Driver 1: I don’t think that season’s greeting was entirely genuine.

         Narrator: (Voiceover) Or like this?  (Cut to cars swerving in and out of the lane during a blizzard)

            Driver 3: (Sticking head out of the window) On Dasher!  On Dancer!  On all the rest, whee!

            Driver 4: (Veering off the road) Weirdo!

           Narrator: (Appears on-screen) Well, fret no more, my children: we here at radio station WNAP are here to answer your previously unknown prayers.  Granted, we can’t take away the traffic – or the snow – or the black ice – or the never-ending construction – or the messed-up roads – or the terrible drivers who should have their licenses taken away – BUT, we can make all those things basically irrelevant.  Allow me to demonstrate.  (Walks over to a car, which has an actor simulating driving)

          Actor Driver: (Speaking to an invisible car in front) Press the gas, I know you can do it, I believe in you, gaaarrggghhh!!!  (Slams head onto the steering wheel)

           Narrator: Now, observe the same subject as the environment is altered.  (Leans in through the passenger side window and turns on the radio; gentle Beethoven is heard)

        Actor Driver: (Blaring the horn) Move over, for the love of – oooooohhhhhh….. (Immediately relaxes, eyes glazing over a bit; the grip on the steering wheel lets up)

          Narrator: That’s right, folks: it isn’t medication, it’s not magic, just plain old sympathetic resonance.  Let’s try this out in the field, hm? 

            (Footage from a dashboard cam that is facing the driver)

            Driver 5: (Steering erratically) Grrrr…. (Jabs a button on the center console; soft sitar music is heard) Sighhhh…. (Leans back and begins steering serenely, smoothly and safely changing lanes and then stopping with patience as a crash, car horns, and yelling voices are heard) What a beautiful day.

            Narrator: (In an empty room) But don’t take my word for it: try it yourself the next time you feel your blood boiling as every vehicle on the road seems to go out of its way to torment you.  And almost any musical genre will do, as long as it’s around 60 beats per minute.  Go ahead: feel your heart literally slow down to match as the chaos besieging you on every side no longer seems to matter!  And to top it all off, your driving actually IMPROVES because there’s something running interference between you and the world, and you are now able to take everything in rather than focus on just your own stress and the jerk in front of you.  It truly is the Season of Miracles!

            (Cut to Driver 6, talking to the camera soothingly while driving breezily; Buddhist chants are playing over the speakers]

            Driver 6: I used to dread this time of year, averaging one accident per every five trips – now, I simply glide on and off highways, swim through parking lots, and plow over inches of snow, and I owe it all to the car radio.  Thanks, WNAP!

            Narrator: Thanks to you, our loyal listeners.  And don’t forget: subscribe to us online, and you can then take us wherever you go!  This will come in especially handy as you stand on the hour-long line waiting to buy that one gift for an unappreciative recipient.  Happy Holidays from all of us at WNAP, and keep on gently listening all year long!

           (Cut to a customer standing on line and wearing headphones, listening to string music, and sporting a beatific smile – the camera pulls back to show they are surrounded by people yelling, kids making messes all over with the store’s own merchandise, babies crying, and employees holding their heads and screaming, all of which gradually is drowned out by the swelling strings and the fade to black)

Story 295: I Was in a Defensive Driving Training Video

He skimmed the “Help Wanted” section in his parents’ newspaper, ready to chuck it in for another day and head over to the library to use their online job search sites at half-hour intervals, when this caught his eye:

WANT TO MAKE SOME EASY CASH?

Yes! his brain answered.

HAVE YOU EVER DREAMED OF STARRING IN A FILM?

Ummm, sure, why not?

DO YOU HAVE A VALID DRIVER’S LICENSE?

What?            

THEN STOP BY OUR OFFICE TODAY FOR A CHANCE TO BE IN OUR DMV-APPROVED DEFENSIVE DRIVING COURSES, AIDING DRIVERS EVERYWHERE TO BE THE BEST – AND SAFEST! – THEY CAN BE!

“Ooh, ‘Defensive Driving,’” he said to himself as he tore out the page from the paper.  “Maybe they use swords.”

LATER THAT MORNING

At the office, he approached the receptionist at the front desk.

“How can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m here about this?”  He held out the ad.

She glanced at it for a second before popping her gum and asking: “You an actor?”

“No-o-o, should I be?”

“No, we actually prefer you’re not: it lends to the authenticity of the videos, plus we don’t have to pay union dues.”  She picked up a clipboard that held a six-inch pile of paper and handed it to him.  “Fill all these out please, front and back.  And don’t keep the pen: everyone else stole the others and it’s my last one.”

“Oh yeah, sure – thanks!”  He took the clipboard to a row of chairs lined along a wall, where about 10 other people sat also filling out forms.

Question 1: Have you ever had any traffic violations?

Uh-oh.

ONE HOUR LATER

With a shaking, cramped hand, he gave the clipboard and nearly dry pen back to the receptionist; without looking at it, she sent the clipboard through a pneumatic tube stationed behind her chair and said to him, “Right, thanks, they’ll call you if they need you to come in.”

“…Today?”

“Nah; probably about three weeks.”

“Oh.  I thought this was quick cash.”

“Nope: this is easy cash; nothing legal is quick cash.  And it’s actually a check, and the forms have to be scanned into the database to make sure you’re not wanted in 20 states for grand theft auto, and you’ll have to have a drug test if you’re selected, so yeah, about three weeks.”

“Oh.  OK.  Bye.”

“Have a nice day.”

ABOUT THREE WEEKS LATER

            He entered the office and saw the same receptionist at the front desk.

            “How can I help you?”

            “Yeah hi, I got called to come in for the shoot?”

            “The what?”

            “Heh-heh, sorry, I mean the defensive driving video.  Training film.  Thingamabob.  You know.”  Shut up, shut up, shut up!

            “Oh yeah, they’re down the hall, third door on the right, I’ll let them know you’re heading on over.”

            “Thank you much.”  Knock it off!

            Once he arrived at the right room, he and three other participants received a brief introduction by a facilitator before they were taken outside to a parking lot separate from the main one where they had left their cars.

            “Now, I have to ask,” the facilitator said as they headed towards a car covered in all sorts of text, “do any of you currently have any tickets or points on your license?”  One of the participants raised their hand.  “Last chance to sit this out, then.”

            “Wait, we’re actually going out on the road?” they asked.  “I thought this would just be in a parking lot with a bunch of cones.”

           “That’s for our teenage newbie drivers: you guys are the older crew.  We need real-life footage of what bad driving looks like so the course shows students what not to do.”

           He started at this: “Oh, I thought we were selected to participate `cause we were good drivers?  Like, we don’t have any felonies or warrants out for our arrest?”

            The facilitator stared at him: “And how would anyone learn from that?”

            “Oh.”

            He saw a dashboard camera conspicuously pointed at the driver’s seat as he got into the car; he buckled up and pushed back the seat while the facilitator entered through the passenger side and began activating equipment.

            “Now,” the latter said without looking at him, “just drive as you normally would and pretend this thing isn’t even here.”  A small but unavoidable red light flared on the camera.

            “OK....”  He sat up as straight as he possibly could and placed his hands at 9:00 and 3:00 on the steering wheel.  “How’s this?”

            “Is that how you normally drive?”

            “…No.”

            “How then?”  He sheepishly moved his hands to 7:00 and 5:00.  “Perfect – off you go!”

            He started the engine after the facilitator exited, then leaned over to ask through the open passenger-side window: “Wait, where do I drive to?  And how long?”

            “Wherever your little heart desires! And you have 30 minutes, which started a minute ago.”

            “Oh, sorry, bye!”  He zoomed out of the parking lot and merged onto the highway.  Wonder if I can squeeze in some take-out before heading back?

            His eyes kept being drawn to the camera, so much that he nearly hit a motorcycle changing lanes even though it had signaled.  “Whoopsie.”

            Now more on his guard, he maintained the speed limit and continued uneventfully down the highway.

          After about five minutes, a voice blared out of the car radio’s speakers: “WHAT THE BLAZES ARE YOU DOING?!”

            He yelped and nearly swerved off the road into a family of deer that was standing next to the shoulder, minding their own business.  “Wait, what are you talking about?!  I’m trying to drive!”

            “Were you even listening earlier?!”  The facilitator’s voice had lowered in volume but not in screech.  “We need examples!  We need scenarios!  We need near-misses and ‘Look-out!’s and ‘OMG!’s and ‘WTF!’s”

            Having slowed down to a crawl, he was trying to sort all this out without pulling over: “Wait, so, you want me to get into an accident?!  On purpose?!”

            “It’s called ‘collision’ now, and that is clearly not what I am saying – we want you to almost get into an accident.”

            “How am I supposed to do that?!”

            “By just being yourself and doing what you normally do: driving recklessly!”

           “I do not drive recklessly!” he countered as he picked up speed and swerved in and out of traffic.

            “Uh-huh.”

            “You were just distracting me earlier, which is very dangerous and irresponsible!  Ooh, I’m coming up to a roundabout now, zip it.”

            “Uh-huh."

          He deliberately took his time merging into the roundabout, then was cut off from exiting where he wanted because he had switched to the inner lane to get ahead of the other cars, which now were passing by and blocking him.  After two rotations, he zoomed ahead to make a diagonal escape from the black hole, almost wiping out five cars that voiced their objections by various means of sounds and gestures.

            “Beautiful,” the facilitator’s voice said.

            He was shaking as he headed back to the parking lot.  “I had the right-of-way there, you know!  They were all just being jerks!”

            “Uh-huh.  Incidentally, this course teaches drivers that the right-of-way actually is given by the other drivers on the road, did you know that?”

            “I could gladly have spent the rest of my life not knowing that.  Besides, what good is all this if the camera’s only getting my messed-up face the whole time?!”

         “Oh don’t worry about that – there’s another camera facing out that’s catching everything else, so we’re covered.  I think we’ve got enough material out of you, and your time’s up so get back here now, please.”

            “I’m already back here!”

            “Oh yeah, I see you now – cheers.”

          He parked the car by the group and shakily exited; the facilitator held the door open and beckoned the next participant over. 

He hesitated before leaving: “So that’s it, you really don’t need anything else from me, like texting or falling asleep or road raging or all that?”

            “You kidding?  That would be illegal.”