jennings rampage

Pity I have to take the bus back, pity I have to leave so soon.

Here’s my driving log for last Friday, 21 Feb 2003:

Boy, was I pissed off last Thursday. We still hadn’t heard from Jason, and I was having a hard time watching wrestling over Jeff complaining about wrestling being on along with the parade of phone calls asking when I was going to be in New York. How could I disappoint my peeps like this? It was super boo-hoo!

But then around 10:30pm, Jason breezed on up to our apartment, having just returned from the Navy’s psychiatric facility for evaluation. (Guess why!) He had his leave, but it wasn’t until Monday, but he was still going to make the trip up on Friday after work and drive back Saturday evening to be back on the ship for duty on Sunday, since young love can endure that much driving. More power.

Jason said he’d be by at 4pm, so I was just getting out of the shower at 1:30pm and was sitting down to write a quick contribution to the Journal Review Journal (which will come soon) when the knock knock knock came. I dressed and packed in ten minutes, and after running some errands in town, we were in Jason’s white Pontiac Grand Prix and on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel (a marvelous feat of engineering and a painfully boring structure to drive across) by 3:30pm.

Jason had been trying to gauge my comfort-level with doing some of this driving, since if he had the chance to not drive he was going to take it. Jeff had been in his ear about what a terrible driver I am (because, after all, the only way I’m going to get to be a better driver is by not driving), but Jason was far too laid-back to be concerned with all that. The halfway point in the trip is right around Salisbury, Maryland, and Jason decided to let me have the wheel of his car for about an hour, until we reached Dover, Delaware.

We pulled over into the parking lot of a car dealership to switch seats, and after I was strapped in and had the mirrors adjusted (and after Jason had taken a piss on the side of the road), we were headed north on U.S. 13. The moment I hit 55 mph, the skies opened and the thickest fog I’ve ever lived through surrounded the car and kept pace. My trial-by-fire-driving-education continues!

Jason’s car handles remarkably well, and I happen to have exceptional vision, so these adverse conditions weren’t much of a problem. Jason offered several tidbits of driving advice (”just follow the lines on the left or on the right, whichever;” “when your wipers are on, try not to look at them;” “pay attention to what the car in front of you is doing;” “why doesn’t Jamie realize that I trust her?”), but I used the steering wheel radio controls to rock out to a little quality classic rock radio. My imaginary car will have steering wheel radio controls. And ground effects.

The rain cleared up just outside of Dover, and Jason took his seat back after one hour and about 60 miles of driving (average rate of speed: 60 mph). He congratulated me on a job well done, and said he’d tell Jeff that he was full of shit as far as my driving was concerned. Thanks, Jason!

Of course, there’s very little driving to be done here in New York City, but I’m doing my best to have fun all the same. When I get back to Norfolk, however, I’ll be taking over responsibility for the Purpulator when my brother ships off for the Fifth Fleet next Tuesday. Many trips will be planned, and intensive preparations will begin for the Virginia driving test (four right turns and parking between cones). And on March 24th around 7:45am, I will commute to work for the first time.

Until then, happy motoring!