Someday when I retire I will spend my idle time sorting through stacks and stacks of driver's permits and proof of insurance documents that I did not give back to my clients, even after they accused me of keeping those documents when they could not produce them themselves. I did this, not out of any spite or malice but solely for the purpose of having something really interesting to do after my useful labors are over.
Someday when I retire I will write a book called The Encyclopedia Of Stupid and regale you with stories of people slowly cruising past our auto test site, staring blankly at our large orange cones, yellow test lines and examiner standing there clipboard in hand. After the third time past I give up and wave the poor suckers in, then watch them drive 100 yards to the end of the parking lot, come back, lean out the car window and ask if this is where they do auto tests. "No" I say, "you must be confused. "This is a Keep Safe Michigan site where we offer coffee and donuts to tired drivers. Would you like a cup?"
Someday when I retire I will think about my test subjects from this morning. First up was 40 year old Kevin. When I asked him if he had a previous driver's license he said no, just thought it was time to start driving. When I asked 40 year old Kevin to sign his name on the form he asked; "Can I print my name or should I use cursive?" When I asked him to do the sight side parking which is akin to backing up an auto into a driveway or garage while looking out one's driver side window Kevin takes an S route, ending up 90 degrees the wrong direction. Try as he may from this position he cannot extract himself. If this were an actual garage it would now have two extra doors, one on each side.
That was followed by 20 year old Nedim who when turning right out of our parking lot onto Clyde Park Avenue at the beginning of the driving portion crossed over not only the first and second lanes but also the turning lane to get into the far left lane so we could head the wrong way down Clyde Park. Two minutes later after we got back home and Nedim realized that maybe there was something a little wrong with that maneuver he drives off Lord knows where or how all by himself.
That was followed by 18 yr. old James Brown. James drives right through the 4 way stop in the residential area near the beginning of the driving test. When we got back a few minutes later and I explained the error of his ways he did not feel good, da da da da da da da.
And that was followed by 20 year old Rohullah. His permit said "corrective lens" so I asked him if he brought his glasses with him. He tells me no, he only wore them one day and that he doesn't need to wear glasses. I tell Rohullah that unfortunately the day he decided to wear them was when he took the eye exam and that he could not legally drive with out said glasses. He didn't feel good either, da da da da da da da.
This morning is why I don't trust anybody out there on the roads.
Someday when I retire maybe I'll ride the bus. I was told last week however that in Grand Rapids you need to avoid bus number 1 that goes downtown. The roads there are really rough, the bus is designed to carry 40 but they always have about 60 passengers so people need to stand in the aisles, which may be a better option than sitting anyway because the homeless ride bus 1 all day to keep warm and some of them cannot hold themselves so they wet their pants and the regulars all feel the seats before using them.
Ah! So someday when I retire maybe I will sit by my window in the fall, watch the trees turn their brilliant reds and oranges and yellows and whenever 10 or 20 leaves hit the lawn I will be all over them. I thought of that the other day when after I mowed the grass and cleared off the leaves and wondered how long the yard would look so nice I got whacked in the head by an errant orange missile.
Someday when I retire I may help out 88 year old Hank who is in charge of the drop off area at the local Bibles for Mexico Thrift Shop. The last time I was there I saw him struggling with a large sofa and love seat that someone left out side in the rain the night before. If was now worthless but still Hank needed to move it to the appropriate dump site. Even though he clearly required assistance with this he insisted that he didn't. "That's OK" I say loudly so he can hear me. "I'll help you with this and then you can help me unload my computer keyboard and mouse."
Or, maybe someday when I retire I will spend my idle time sorting through stacks and stacks of ? ? ? ?. Wait. Did I just say that?
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