June 3, 2011
We are off to Montreal this morning.
Two days in the city, two days driving.
We return Monday.
And oh the tales I'll have to tell!
A new legal driver is in our midst.
Emily wrote and passed her beginner's yesterday.
Let the games begin!
Of course, like everything government and bureaucratic in this province, it wasn't simply a matter of going downtown and writing the test.
Oh no.
THAT would be too easy.
First, you have to line up.
And when it is your turn tell the person-whose-sole-job-is-to-direct-lost-and-wayward-souls-by-finding-out-what-they-are-there-for-and-giving-them-the-appropriate-number.
Because you must pay to pass or fail the written portion of the driver's test.
How else could all those civil servants, including the ticket man, be paid?
After being given your number you sit.
And wait.
Until your letter/number combination flashes on the screen above you and directs you to the appropriate wicket.
I was just there to pay.
So we sat.
We waited.
Everytime a little ding was heard announcing an open wicket, the heads of the seated turned upward to read if, please, please, it was our turn.
Eventually A140 was called.
And Em was directed to the wicket directly in front of where we were seated.
I was reading.
I just passed Em my debit card.
I was just there to pay.
Perhaps also to provide the kind of support only a mother can provide.
After paying and being given the next key to move to the next level of the bureaucratic labyrinth that is Service New Brunswick, it was time to engage in the procedures necessary to write the test.
My signature was required.
So I was there to pay, provide maternal support, and sign things.
And then I just sat and waited.
First for Em to write the test.
While she was busy identifying signs and answering the twenty question test, pouring from brain to paper all the knowledge she had acquired from Driver's Ed, I sat in the waiting area and chatted with a school friend of Mer's.
Passing the time pleasantly until The-Bundle-Of-Nerves-Now-Known-As-Emily returned from writing the test to await confirmation of passing or failing.
At this juncture, I became aware of an internal struggle.
On the one hand, of course I wanted Em to pass. She has a car, already. She has been ready to drive since she was first behind the wheel of a car, at three years old. She is mature, intelligent, took the driver's ed course, but most importantly, if she didn't pass it would scar her emotionally.
And that would take a lot of work to overcome.
For both of us.
On the other hand, I have first hand experience of how completely and utterly idiotic and moronic Fredericton drivers are and I don't know if I am emotionally ready for my child, my baby, to throw herself into the midst of such lunacy.
I kept this internal conundrum to myself.
Em was nervous and anxious enough without being made aware that her own mother was waging an internal battle.
She just needed to hear me repeat, over and over, that of course she was going to pass. It would be fine. She knew everything she needed to know and then some, so she had nothing to worry about.
Which is what I did.
We waited and waited for her test to be graded, and for her to be called back into the test area to be informed of the outcome.
Would she return with the paperwork key that would allow her to advance to the next level, or, would she be denied entry and forced to exit the premises until the next time she was able to negotiate the labyrinth again?
We saw her fellow testees fall into both categories.
Those who returned to their anxious, waiting parents to excitedly and happily inform them that their child was now being granted the legal permission to operate a motor vehicle.
So long as they had a licenced driver accompany them, but, they were still legally permitted to drive.
And those poor, unfortunate souls who did not pass, who didn't greet their parents, but came out of the testing area only to make eye contact, barely shake their head no, and proceed to exit the building with the relieved parent running to catch up with them.
We watched the minute dramas unfold in front us, while Em kept asking over and over how come it is taking so long? How hard can it be to grade a twenty question test and a few road signs? Oh my God I failed . . . .
Her name was called.
EMILY!
Off she went, turning to look at me just before she returned to the testing area to be informed of what direction her life would take from this moment on.
I sat in my chair, legs crossed, eyes crossed, fingers crossed, praying that she would pass and preparing myself for the emotional meltdown of she didn't.
She was in there a long time.
A good sign.
And when she came out bearing the tools for passage to the next level, her little face lit up like a Christmas tree, repeating over and over and over, I passed! I passed! I passed! I knew that my life and hers had entered an entirely new dimension and I would perhaps never sleep a full night again once she started driving on her own.
Clutching the key for passage to the next level, she went BACK to the line up for the numbers, and returned clutching a new number: B70.
And when her name was called, my debit card in hand, she went back to the wickets and paid for her driver's licence.
The one with the picture on it.
. . hence why she took so long getting ready yesterday morning. . .
. . .while I called and texted Stephen, her siblings, my brother about her success.
I had no reply from Keith but Em did.
Mer texted back congratulating Em and happily informing us that she now had another person to drive her back and forth to work.
And eventually the photographer came over to Em bearing her licence and Em was an official driver.
She wanted to drive out of downtown Fredericton at what was now lunchtime from a parallel parking space that took me forever to get into, in which we were now sandwiched tightly between two driver's who didn't know how to leave enough space in front and back when you parallel park.
Plus my nerves were shot.
So I drove uptown for lunch at Swiss Chalet.
All the while listening to Em repeat over and over how happy she was.
The entire process took an hour and a half.
Not bad for the labyrinth of bureaucracy.
The cost of driver's ed: $590.00
The cost of writing the test: $25.00
The cost of the driver's licence: $80.00
The cost of the celebratory lunch: $40.00
The cost of repairs to her car, thus far: $480.00
TOTAL: $1215.00
The look on Em's face as she successfully negotiated each step of the driving bureaucracy: PRICELESS.
Title Lyric: Signs by The Five Man Electrical Band
No comments:
Post a Comment