Take for example, driving. I, like most Americans teenagers in the days before graduated licenses and age restrictions, got my learner's permit at 15. In those days, in Alabama, it should be noted that the only rules separating a learner's permit from a full-fledged license was that the driver in question had to be over 15 years of age and enrolled in school. Once one passed a ridiculously easy written exam, there were pretty much no rules, other than that there had to be a licensed adult over age 21 in the car at all times, and they *should* be conscious. (Yes, really.)
The minute I turned 15, I passed my written test with flying colors, got my little plastic card with my picture on it and restriction "Y" (I assume it stands for youth? I don't know), and proceeded to scare the hell out of my parents for the next year behind the wheel of my first baby, otherwise known as "Joanie the Little Blue Oldsmobile." "Joanie" was actually my dad's car-- a 1994 Cutlass convertible, in turquoise!-- but it was deemed the easiest vehicle in the family for me to learn on. (Yes, I named the car. Like, as if.)
The first real driving adventure I had was the night of my 15th birthday. I'd had my permit for all of 5 hours, but when we went out to dinner to celebrate, I drove. I don't remember much about it, other than that I think I screamed the whole way (probably a 10 minute trip.) The real test came a few weeks later, when my mom taught me to parallel park in front of our church one morning right before the service to keep us from having to walk 3 blocks from the other lot. Literally, I learned to parallel park in front of God and everybody, and if I may say, it's still one of the things I'm best at. I've taught several of my friends. I should put it on my resume.
Fast forward about 10 years to this past Sunday. The local chapter of our beloved alma mater's alumni club held a reception for the outgoing Vice Chancellor and his wife. (For you non-Sewanee folk out there, the V.C. is basically the university president.) The party was at a house out in Chevy Chase, Maryland, which is a very nice suburb of D.C. However, we did have one small problem-- the house was 3 miles from the nearest Metro station. Now, we walk a lot up here, but 3 miles is definitely a little far-- especially if you're trudging through the snow in nice clothes. Enter our hero-- the zipcar!
Zipcars may be the most brilliant idea anyone has ever had. Here's how it works. You fill out an application, they approve you and give you a plastic card that works like a key. When you need a car, you go online, pick one in your area, and reserve it for as long as you need. Hourly rates range from about $8 to about $13, depending on the car. Gas and insurance are included. So basically, for the bargain price of your $50 a year membership fee, plus your $8-13 per hour rental, you have a car at your disposal. Compare that to the $200 per month parking fee at our apartment building, plus the cost of insuring a car in a major city, plus getting new tags, plus oil changes, gas, etc. etc. etc... yeah.
Anyway. My love of zipcars aside, this was going to be the only way to get out to Maryland on a snowy Sunday evening. I arranged to get a car near Georgetown law school-- turned out I totally hated the car, but that happens sometimes. Not a fan of the new Honda Civic hybrid though. I couldn't see out of it at all. Anyway, I picked Pete up, and we were off on our merry way. Then we looked at the map, and saw that Google was taking us through probably the craziest intersection in the entire world-- Dupont Circle. If you've never been there, here's what it's like: Imagine an English roundabout... except instead of having one circle with a few reasonably sized lanes that everyone drives through in a (somewhat) orderly fashion, there's the giant circle, plus at least 4 lanes at any given point. Oh and also, there's a giant median in between them. Also, instead of having like 4 "exit" streets that shoot off from the circle, there are like 8. Several of which also have a big triangle or median blocking you from going down them the wrong way. As for street signs... wait... what are those? I don't think we have those here.
We joked that they should take down the one sign telling you to stay on the outside circle for New Hampshire Ave, or whatever, and just put up a big sign saying "DuPont Circle. Good luck."
Anyway.
We don't know the area well enough to re-route ourselves. I mean, I could walk all around Dupont if I had to, but since we almost never drive... you're seeing the problem. Going out wasn't so horrible because it was still daytime, and as such, the streets hadn't frozen. Coming back was a different story. I mean, clearly we made it back safely, but it was a nerve-wracking experience. We had planned to re-do the directions so we could avoid DuPont in the dark with the snow, but then determined that it was actually safer to be on the big roads that had been salted and plowed, and then driven on all day. (Side note, can we discuss how much it blew my mind the first time I saw a snow plow? I really don't think I had ever seen one before this winter.) Fortunately we didn't encounter much ice until we got back to the parking lot to turn in the car, and that was manageable.
I think I need a Girl Scout badge for that one. It could have a penguin on it, like the one I got in 5th grade for camping when it was below freezing, and it could say "I drove through DuPont Circle TWICE in the snow in an unfamiliar car that I couldn't see out of. BEAT THAT!!"
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