Drive like you stole it

On Wednesday, my housemate and me went to the rather brilliant True Stories Told Live night. We were probably the youngest and poorest in the audience, but we still enjoyed it. The standard wasn't quite as high as the last time I went (but then, last time I had a seat and a bit more to drink, so I might've been biased), but the standout story still made me laugh, like, lots. It was about how the protagonist and storyteller had, after reversing the family car into his parents' kitchen extension when he was 17, never learnt to drive and, as a result, had to ride his bicycle to work. In Los Angeles. On a highway. Summarised, it doesn't sound all that interesting, but he made it very funny and engaging.

It made me think about my relationship with driving, and with a more-than-average cringe I remembered how I failed not one, not two but three practical driving tests before finally passing. My instructor was a no-nonsense Spaniard who had lived in London all his life but still talked like Rafa Benitez on Ritalin. I don't know how it happened, but somehow he ended up teaching pretty much everyone from the German School who was over 17. Anyway, I didn't make it easy for him (quote: "Wow. You've done it. You're actually on the pavement.") and, to my shame, haven't really driven since I passed. I once picked up a friend from the airport, and after getting back safely, she said I drive "like a butcher". Don't think that was a compliment.

Theoretically, I should be an awesome driver - Germans make the best cars in the world, and my dad is a great driver. He grew up on a farm and drove one of these bad boys at the age of 14. He's never had an accident in his life and, when my mum gave him a race car driving course for his birthday, he won the "Driver of the day" award. That's how good he is. So why am I so fucking useless behind the wheel? It might have something to do with the fact that I know nothing about cars (I was once asked in a mock interview: "If you were a car, which one would you be?" I said: "A red one"). I vaguely remembered my dad telling me about the clutch and the accelerator and stuff, he literally drew me a picture and explained it well - but if you asked me right now how to check the oil level, I'd have to pass.

I think I'd enjoy driving if I did it more, but as it is, I sometimes have actual nightmares about driving. The main scenario is that I'm stuck behind the wheel of a car that, for whatever reason, doesn't have working breaks, resulting in a kind of murderous rampage reminiscent of GTA, where I bump into water hydrants, walls, other cars and people, while trying to estimate how much this is gonna cost me in damages (I can't seem to switch off my paranoia even in a dream).

In the story I mentioned at the beginning, the guy made the point that you should do things like learning to drive as soon as you get the chance, because you never know if you ever get round to doing them, which is a fair point. But I feel in no way qualified to, say, take my (hypothetical) wife and kids for a spin or even on a camping holiday. And I know there will come a time when I won't be able to cop out of driving a car, but for now, I think I'll cross that particular bridge when I get to it.