Row, Row, Row Your Boat....

When I was 16 I ran a red light during my drivers test. But I didn't run just any red light. No, I ran the FIRST red light out of the parking lot. In fact, this intersection was so close to the DMV, I am 98% sure you can actually see it from the parking lot.

When it happened, the instructor in my car said, "Oh, you just ran that red light."

Honestly, I had no idea it happened, even after it happened. I think it was pretty obvious that I just failed, miserably. So I said, the only thing could think of.

"Ok. So what do I do now?"

The instructors answer to that question was something like, "Make a u-turn back into the DMV, you blind ding-dong."

Running a red light during your driving test is the dumbest of dumb moves; I am fully aware of this. However, if you saw this intersection, especially as an inexperienced driver, you might understand how my very naive self made the mistake. I am convinced that the DMV (aka: Satan's Dungeon) chose this location for their office just because they are jerks who like to make other people suffer. Because you see, this is no ordinary intersection. It looks like the city planners drew up the blueprints for the intersection at Dusterberry and Peralta Blvd by giving a pen to a baby. A "left" turn is kinda straight. Straight through the intersection veers off to the left a little. And if you make a right turn when Venus us aligned with Mars you are teleported to the magical land of Narnia. The thing is a wonky mess. They knew this would screw up hopeful teens and that's why they built it there! At least that is what I tell myself.

I remember my Dad. Anxiously waiting for me in the parking lot and the expression on his face when I pulled back in 2 minutes after I left, changed quickly from elated anticipation to "Oh shit, this can't be good."

More than anything, I was embarrassed. Everyone knew I was taking the test and the thought of having to tell friends not just that I failed but how I failed was chilling to say the least. But I moved on from it and two weeks later took the test again and passed with a 95%. And now I can get a good laugh out of my story.

However, recently I was reminded of the day I ran that red light. But this time, I did not think of it in a "funny ha-ha" way. More like a "funny-ha-ha-my-palms-are-sweaty-and-I-can't-feel-my-legs" kinda way. As I previously mentioned here, I joined a rowing team. Every member of the team is required to be the coxswain in the boat at least once every couple of months. The coxswain is the driver and it is pronounced like "cox-sin" and yes, if you are a boy it is ok to giggle when you say it aloud.

A few weeks before it was my turn the coach gave us newbies a quick lesson in being the coxswain.

"Being the cox is not that hard. Your job is to steer and keep the boat safe. You are the eyes of the boat. Now, if you run into any trouble all you have to do is remember the two most important commands. Way enough (Stop what you are doing) and All Hold (Put the "breaks" on, basically)."

Ok, so it's easy he says. I like easy.

"But I mean, it can be scary because if something happens to the boat...well, it's your fault."

Awesome. My days of avoiding this terrifying duty had come to an end the other night. I was very nervous. We row at night and it is very dark and very hard to see the other skinny boats on the lake. Also steering was weird and took me almost the entire practice to get right. But the worst part of all is that most actual coxswains are tiny little people with tiny little rear ends. This is not me. I was not sitting the seat as much as I was wedged in the seat. Half way through the row both my legs were completely asleep. However as awesome a picture I have painted here about my experience, it was really not all that bad. I may go as far as to describe it as being even a little bit fun. But I am very glad my obligation is fulfilled for at least the next two months. I row because I like the exercise and being made to feel like a sausage squeezed into a casing is not my idea of a workout.

Eh, whatever! My bruised ass and sore legs were able to talk me into a few cookies after practice anyway!