drive, she said

except other people having barbecue and Rebecca’s new car.

I do not have the jealous gene except in rare cases when greatness is paraded before me.

said, between bites of biscotti, I don’t want to take the class without you. If you come with me tonight we can learn AND we can roll our eyes and pass notes and make comments about Santorum/santorum.
I said Dealio, gentling my teacup to its saucer. I have already taken the requisite classes, though it wouldn’t hurt to re-absorb before going for the G1 (learner’s permit). But truth be told, I can’t spout off any more about the human rights train wreck that is Santorum lest the top of my head bust open.

It was daylight and this time there was a different reward at the end: Opening day of the season at Rita’s Italian Ice. If I coursed the school roads and back streets, I would place us squarely in the middle of the parking lot where Rita’s sits and glows like a beacon.

I started saying How can there be such a thing as birthday cake flavoured Italian ice? and then just went with it. It was my treat after being on the road again. That’s not a bad thing.

in the life of the secret spy.
In the darkness, the keys slipped into my hand. I donned secret spy glasses, small and rimmed in black. Quietly, I started the car. (I know how to do it now without feeling the thing’s going to take off like a rocket. I used to have the same feeling about electric typewriters.)

The car, once started, was mine. I edged onto the road, which was lit by the car’s HEADLIGHTS and by STREET LIGHTS. The parking lot glowed and so, I dare say, did I.

There were few cars. People are good enough to stay out of parking lots and off quiet streets late in the evening. So we purred along… and then we were home.

I said I HOPE YOU ARE PROUD OF ME. I HAVE NIGHT MYOPIA.
He said C’MERE. YOU ARE MYOPIA, MY ONE AND ONLY OPIA.

was about inclement weather and unexpected crazy drivers. The instructor is blunt: I am teaching you to do your part: drive well, and watch out for idiots.

This week is the last week of in-class instruction. Next, we face driving well and looking out for idiots.

Today’s class was about learning the basics. My instructor asked how many demerit points one racks up if one flattens a squirrel on the road. I thought of my secret spy ally and blanched.

The three basics are:

ATTITUDE

SKILL

KNOWLEDGE

There is still Ramadaning going on, so we finished early again this eve. Applying for the G1 license is slated for next week. Big grin!

Lesson Two involved learning the different signs of the road. The instructor said When you first get driving, those signs will be nothing but blurs whizzing by. You won’t have the wherewithal to read them yet. But gradually you will see them, look for them, understand them.

I could hear his stomach all the way across the classroom. He is observing Ramadan. If we skip the break we can end class early. By the time I get home it will be sundown and I can eat, OK?
I said sure, closed my notebook and by the time I had my glasses off he was gone.

and it is three and a half hours long. I’ll need an energy drink if we’re going to discuss slow-moving Amish buggies like last week, which evolved into a defense of Sharia Law. Don’t ask. I am happy to retain everything there is to know about complex controlled intersections.

This week, if we get started on basics (key in ignition, that kind of thing) that will be great.

The other women drove me back and I said, from the back seat, I have a secret.
One of the women is as much of a wag as I am. She said You secretly love sitting in the back seat.
I gave her the Gromit look and said, after a long attenuating pause,
I have PEOPLE who are ENCOURAGING ME to DRIVE!

To my great delight, they all squealed. Of course that was the opening of a floodgate of their own driving stories, but it is of no matter. It is not a neighbourhood secret any longer.

to a quiet neighbourhood much like the best of the uncrowded part of the Beaches, or of Lawrence Park without the pomp. There were winding roads, of course, but she was distracted by the grace of the dwellings and did not falter.
She hit a pot-hole once or twice, inexcusable. But she drove and smiled. She drove until her depth-perception made her squint. She gained confidence, and he said I am proud of you.

She is surer each time he says it.