Quick catch up, more to follow

So, as you now know, I have finally decided to get my A into G and book for my drivers license. But you all know me by now, can I do something in just an ordinary and normal way? Hell no.

I call a friend, who calls a friend, who calls an aunties brothers cousin, and get an opening at a little place called Ixopo. Ixopo is situated just outside Pietermaritsburg, about three hours drive from me. After informing my boss, I set off with my mate Sam.

Between the fog, uphills, and 18 wheelers that nearly took me out (twice!) on the way there – I nearly didn’t make it. Could have easily called the whole thing off and gone and smashed drinks instead.

Once inside, I wait in the line for my turn to prove to all and sundry how blind I am by taking the eye test (mental note: renew glasses prescription – I couldn’t even get past the first 4 questions). Sam sits giggling at me while I pull out a wet-wipe and clean the surface of the eye tester machine and complains of my compulsive analness, I flip her my finger.

The nice man behind the counter named Warren (pronounced Worr-rrrr-in) informs me under his breathe that, for only a hundred bucks extra, he can get me in for the 20th. While suspiciously looking over my shoulder, not forgetting to give the loud girl talking on her cellphone to uncle Matthewus a very dirty look because she keeps spitting on me, I drug-dealer style slip the extra blue buffalo into my green I.D. book. Unsurprisingly, I am slotted into doing the test on the 20th of this month. Fuck it, I know its illegal, but dammit – I can drive* and I just want to get the license so I can stop driving on back roads and hiding from Traffises.

On the way home, I puff away, sip on coke and chat away to Sam all the while I have my REM, Matchbox20 and Killers on sterio. It was a smooth drive, especially being downhill, if I discount the dead goat, horny cow and rabid looking dog or two I had to dodge.

About five minutes outside of my office town, my cell phone starts ringing off the hook with “urgent” requests that “have to be dealt with immediately” from clients and boss alike, I start rushing to just get there. Going 120km on the road, my wheel decides it needs to slash itself and explode. Screeching down the freeway, I manage to pull the car over without rolling it or smashing into any thing. Am winner driver.

Getting out the car to start procedure of changing the tire, I realize that I have no spare. The spare I had was the one which now has a slash in it. Piss, bugger, wank! Thank goodness I could call step daddy to help out. I finally got to work, two hours later.

But better late than never, right? And I am soon to be a legal driver!

* Except if you count last week when I drove into the wall. Or the week before that when I ran out of fuel and called my brother saying my engine ceased. Or that one time (in band camp) I reversed into my gate. Or the other time I drove over my brothers jack russel, Shelly. Poor little bitch, she still limps three years down the line…