My awful Driver's License Photo

When people see the picture on my driver’s license, they usually comment something along the lines of, “you look like an axe-murderer!” or, “some sort of crazy Russian,” or something to the tune of, “that is not a very flattering picture of you.” Well, if taking my driving test had gone the way I’d planned, I’m sure I’d look happy as a clam at high tide. But my exam wasn’t the most ideal way I’d anticipated getting my license.

Before my 16^th birthday (February 20^th, on a Friday several years ago), I had been driving for about a year, and had passed Driver’s Ed. All I had needed after that was enough hours. Almost every Sunday morning, I’d drive with my parents around an hour away to some other town to find a hole-in-the-wall diner to get breakfast. So when it came time to taking my test, I had plenty of experience and thought of myself as quite the safe driver.

It was Friday afternoon. I had gotten through school that day with all of the usual celebration and whatnot, friends congratulating me and wishing me well and all of the typical sentimental things. I’ve never liked to draw attention to myself, but on a birthday it’s almost unavoidable. Anyways, after school I went with my father to the county DMV (which is thankfully no more than 5 minutes from my house). I was also lucky, in that in the middle of February there wasn’t much snow on the roads and it was a clear day. So I began the test with the examiner in the car with me, turning right out of the parking lot of the DMV onto Winchester Road (since this is all very close to my house I know all of the roads the test took me to). Soon, I came to a stoplight. Made a full stop. Felt the rollback. I waited for the green arrow to turn so I could turn left across the intersection. Next, I turned left again onto Old Barn Circle, into Interlaken Valley. I made sure to cruise just below the 25 mile per hour speed limit. I turned right onto Elderberry Drive. I parked the car “downhill” the correct way. Next, I was directed to reverse around the corner. I went slowly, crept around the corner, but another car sped by me and had to honk its horn. This caused me to panic and I popped the back right tire up onto the curb. My heart sank. Maybe he’d forgive me, I thought, and he’d overlook it. I tried to act nonchalant and put the car in drive as the examiner instructed me to return to the DMV.

I’d failed. The car honking and popping onto the curb were enough to fail me. I was dying inside. He recommended coming back again because other than that I had performed well. Since the DMV is open on Saturdays, I decided I’d come back the next morning. So I did. I woke up at around 7, more tired than I should have been to take the driving exam. I didn’t throw a shirt on, just a big winter coat. Also, it had snowed about 5 inches that night. But I was determined to get my license. There was nobody on the roads, or at the DMV, save the employees. I took the test, and the examiner didn’t even make me back around the corner. I passed, but strangely I don’t remember the second test in nearly as vivid detail as the first.

So when the clerk at the DMV took my picture for my license, I was happy enough to have a slight grin on my face despite the sleep deprivation, and in the picture I have awful bedhead and I’m only wearing a heavy coat.