More Driving In Southern California...
I learned how to drive late. Late for an American, anyway.
I think I was in my early 20's, it was in the 90's in Los Angeles...
My father -in-law designated himself as the tutor, because my then husband
was trying to teach me, but it wasn't working out ( we kept fighting).. The problem : S was determined that I learn to drive a stickshift, killing two birds with one stone. His valid reasoning is that it's
better to know how to drive a stick. And as for myself, I was just too
overwhelmed by the fact that I was ACTUALLY BEHIND THE WHEEL.
And wha? Here's people coming at me, with their cars! Uh oh, the light is turning YELLOW,
what do I do? Slam on the brakes and stop, or speed up and keep going? Ohnoooooo!
Add to that the fact that we are in LA, and it's packed. PACKED. Cars, people everywhere.
Crazy homeless people darting out in front of you.
So I'm supposed to learn to clutch and shift, too? In the middle of everything else? It's
all so overwhelming!!! I'm skeert! ( maybe had I been taught to drive as a teen, I would have
been stupidly brave. But I was now old enough to realize that people actually die, and it may even be me! So I was afraid)
I think my father- in- law ( T) saw and understood all of this.
One day T came home with a truck. A big truck. An old chevy, I think it was. Green and
white, probably from the 70s. Had 3 or 4 gas tanks. When one would run low, there was a switch on the dash , you could switch it to another tank. Pretty neat. It had a V8, or a straight
8. Really good condition. The thing was like a tank. An automatic.
So it became "My" truck, even though it was really T's. His reasoning was that I could drive
around LA and hit things, bump into things, and not be hurt too much. IOW, I'm protected,
but Watch Out! People of L.A.! New driver in a tank on the loose!
So I have my learner's permit, I'm sposed to be driving around with a licensed driver
overseeing things. Except of course, I'm not. I'm going to work and classes all over LA.
In a funny twist, ignorant co-worker asks me for a ride home, and then over to Hollwood. She quickly realizes her mistake and stops asking me for rides.
This was actually a nice truck, at least, I got admirers. One day I looked out from inside
a thrift shop, and saw many Hispanic men standing all around it, looking at it. I mean, really
looking. Peering in the windows. They weren't being shady, they just liked the truck.
But that was when I realized that people liked it ( I also liked it, but figured that I was sentimental - my first car, sorta).
One time a bunch of kids in a porshe pulled up alongside me, and revved. I looked over, and they were smiling at me, so I revved. The light turned, and we went for it! And that truck
kicked ass! I didn't even know it had that kind of power. The only thing is, one has to be more
careful in a truck. And we were nearing Ventura Blvd, and in fact I was on my way to work.
So I slowed and turned off and left the race. But they knew it was because I had to, and not out of being a chicken. So basically we'd just drag raced on Tampa blvd.. I raced a Porshe.
But the thing is, it was too much power for me, as a new driver. I actually WAS bumping things
and having little scrapes all over the place. But because I'd accidentally discovered the killer power of this
truck ( during that little race), I think it was beyond my skill at the time. And there are so many left turns in LA where you have to dart while it's a red light, because you've sat and had to wait thru the green light for all the oncoming cars to go before you can turn. Those kind of left turns are more dangerous. And they're all over LA, like I said. We don't have as many down here in San Diego, I've noticed.
So there was an incident. The death of the green truck.
It was a rainy day, about 11 am. There had been a pretty good earthquake, just an hour
or so before. It turned out to be a warning quake, the big Northridge quake was coming
soon ( a year later). And this WAS the northridge area, bordering it anyway. We'd just gotten a pretty good jolt. So maybe I was already a little shook.
It was raining hard, I was at one of those awful darting left turns, and I dart, and I begin fishtailing. It's a truck, it can't handle certain movements. I'm now discovering this.
So I'm driving down a sidewalk. Um, I didn't mention that part? lol
I had turned the corner, lost control, driven onto the sidewalk, and now was weaving in and out
of telephone poles whilst driving down the sidewalk. Just off of Topanga Canyon Blvd.
Since I'm really in panic mode, it's all happening so fast, I hit the gas instead of the brakes,
D'oh! I'm heading towards a Mexican Restaraunt. People see me coming. I hit the brick
wall that is right in front of the place, going what, 45? Not sure, because I'd picked up speed
when I hit the gas driving down the sidewalk. And the speed in the area was 35.
If it wasn't for the little wall, a short brick wall, I'd have plowed right into that restaraunt,
and killed who-knows-who. As it was I could see everyone over the wall, and they could see me. I calmly got out of the truck, and started walking down the street. Like nothing had
happened.
I was clearly dazed and confused.
A lady driving by saw me, and even though the people of LA aren't known for stopping to help
people, she stopped, got out, approached me. Said " Uh, I think you should sit down! Are you
ok?" I said " I want to go home". At that point, it was all I wanted, and what I'd been doing, I
was walking home.
Turned out that the reason she stopped was all the blood flowing out of my nose and mouth,
and the fact that with every second, my face was swelling towards something that wound up resembling the moon.
But I didn't know this at the time. I was merely walking home. Behind me is a totaled truck
spewing smoke. Lalala, I'm just walking home ( until the lady stopped and made me go back
to the scene)...
So the cops came, everyone was milling around, including all of the Mexican restaraunt
personnel and customers. It was a big scene.
I was fine, as it turned out. And to my shock, I wasn't even cited! And the cops came to
the hospital and waited to see if I was ok! That was very sweet.
The truck was totaled though, like I said.
But T made a profit off the truck, as it turned out, so that was good.
But I miss that truck. Wish I had it now, except that I'd probably turn into an asshole
driver like the other truck people seem to.
I think I was in my early 20's, it was in the 90's in Los Angeles...
My father -in-law designated himself as the tutor, because my then husband
was trying to teach me, but it wasn't working out ( we kept fighting).. The problem : S was determined that I learn to drive a stickshift, killing two birds with one stone. His valid reasoning is that it's
better to know how to drive a stick. And as for myself, I was just too
overwhelmed by the fact that I was ACTUALLY BEHIND THE WHEEL.
And wha? Here's people coming at me, with their cars! Uh oh, the light is turning YELLOW,
what do I do? Slam on the brakes and stop, or speed up and keep going? Ohnoooooo!
Add to that the fact that we are in LA, and it's packed. PACKED. Cars, people everywhere.
Crazy homeless people darting out in front of you.
So I'm supposed to learn to clutch and shift, too? In the middle of everything else? It's
all so overwhelming!!! I'm skeert! ( maybe had I been taught to drive as a teen, I would have
been stupidly brave. But I was now old enough to realize that people actually die, and it may even be me! So I was afraid)
I think my father- in- law ( T) saw and understood all of this.
One day T came home with a truck. A big truck. An old chevy, I think it was. Green and
white, probably from the 70s. Had 3 or 4 gas tanks. When one would run low, there was a switch on the dash , you could switch it to another tank. Pretty neat. It had a V8, or a straight
8. Really good condition. The thing was like a tank. An automatic.
So it became "My" truck, even though it was really T's. His reasoning was that I could drive
around LA and hit things, bump into things, and not be hurt too much. IOW, I'm protected,
but Watch Out! People of L.A.! New driver in a tank on the loose!
So I have my learner's permit, I'm sposed to be driving around with a licensed driver
overseeing things. Except of course, I'm not. I'm going to work and classes all over LA.
In a funny twist, ignorant co-worker asks me for a ride home, and then over to Hollwood. She quickly realizes her mistake and stops asking me for rides.
This was actually a nice truck, at least, I got admirers. One day I looked out from inside
a thrift shop, and saw many Hispanic men standing all around it, looking at it. I mean, really
looking. Peering in the windows. They weren't being shady, they just liked the truck.
But that was when I realized that people liked it ( I also liked it, but figured that I was sentimental - my first car, sorta).
One time a bunch of kids in a porshe pulled up alongside me, and revved. I looked over, and they were smiling at me, so I revved. The light turned, and we went for it! And that truck
kicked ass! I didn't even know it had that kind of power. The only thing is, one has to be more
careful in a truck. And we were nearing Ventura Blvd, and in fact I was on my way to work.
So I slowed and turned off and left the race. But they knew it was because I had to, and not out of being a chicken. So basically we'd just drag raced on Tampa blvd.. I raced a Porshe.
But the thing is, it was too much power for me, as a new driver. I actually WAS bumping things
and having little scrapes all over the place. But because I'd accidentally discovered the killer power of this
truck ( during that little race), I think it was beyond my skill at the time. And there are so many left turns in LA where you have to dart while it's a red light, because you've sat and had to wait thru the green light for all the oncoming cars to go before you can turn. Those kind of left turns are more dangerous. And they're all over LA, like I said. We don't have as many down here in San Diego, I've noticed.
So there was an incident. The death of the green truck.
It was a rainy day, about 11 am. There had been a pretty good earthquake, just an hour
or so before. It turned out to be a warning quake, the big Northridge quake was coming
soon ( a year later). And this WAS the northridge area, bordering it anyway. We'd just gotten a pretty good jolt. So maybe I was already a little shook.
It was raining hard, I was at one of those awful darting left turns, and I dart, and I begin fishtailing. It's a truck, it can't handle certain movements. I'm now discovering this.
So I'm driving down a sidewalk. Um, I didn't mention that part? lol
I had turned the corner, lost control, driven onto the sidewalk, and now was weaving in and out
of telephone poles whilst driving down the sidewalk. Just off of Topanga Canyon Blvd.
Since I'm really in panic mode, it's all happening so fast, I hit the gas instead of the brakes,
D'oh! I'm heading towards a Mexican Restaraunt. People see me coming. I hit the brick
wall that is right in front of the place, going what, 45? Not sure, because I'd picked up speed
when I hit the gas driving down the sidewalk. And the speed in the area was 35.
If it wasn't for the little wall, a short brick wall, I'd have plowed right into that restaraunt,
and killed who-knows-who. As it was I could see everyone over the wall, and they could see me. I calmly got out of the truck, and started walking down the street. Like nothing had
happened.
I was clearly dazed and confused.
A lady driving by saw me, and even though the people of LA aren't known for stopping to help
people, she stopped, got out, approached me. Said " Uh, I think you should sit down! Are you
ok?" I said " I want to go home". At that point, it was all I wanted, and what I'd been doing, I
was walking home.
Turned out that the reason she stopped was all the blood flowing out of my nose and mouth,
and the fact that with every second, my face was swelling towards something that wound up resembling the moon.
But I didn't know this at the time. I was merely walking home. Behind me is a totaled truck
spewing smoke. Lalala, I'm just walking home ( until the lady stopped and made me go back
to the scene)...
So the cops came, everyone was milling around, including all of the Mexican restaraunt
personnel and customers. It was a big scene.
I was fine, as it turned out. And to my shock, I wasn't even cited! And the cops came to
the hospital and waited to see if I was ok! That was very sweet.
The truck was totaled though, like I said.
But T made a profit off the truck, as it turned out, so that was good.
But I miss that truck. Wish I had it now, except that I'd probably turn into an asshole
driver like the other truck people seem to.
posted by Nabonidus at 8:30 AM
1 Comments:
Haha, that was a good story. I got images of the whole thing happening and found it funny as things like this usually are years down the road.
Cant help laughing thinking of all the people that saw this happening. I can either picture LA people being all hard core briefly glancing over at you going out of control and then continuing their conversation with whoever like it's no big deal. Meanwhile your truck in the back ground swerves into a brick wall and comes to a firey halt.
Or I can imagine how many people instantaniously had an OH SHIT complex watching in disbelief as all of this happens. Then calling their lawyers on their cellphone asking if they can sue you for causing tramatic stress syndrom.
Good story.
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