I sat my restricted driver licence test yesterday, at the grand old age of 28. The timing though not deliberate, seems apt.

Young guys in their cars statistically die more often between 16 and 25, and I’m past that. Rock stars die at 27, so  I’m free of that obstacle too. In more ways than age.

I was always convinced when younger I’d die in a car accident - my suspicion was it wouldn’t be whilst I was in a car, but cycling or jaywalking, but I figured with accident rates as they are for young guys, my rock star ambitions and the fact I grew up in a car-less family in a flat city, I’d be better off not getting behind the wheel too soon.

Still, there was never any conscious decision to wait this long - I began learning in 2003, with lessons from Rob - as a part of my post-freakout/Aropax, get in line phase - which never got beyond practise drives around Flagstaff. The theory was if we (I) hit anyone, the family would either be nice and rich enough to handle it, or evil and rich enough for us to be doing the universe a favour. Then again, getting to speed where injury was even a possibility was a problem, with my inept gear-changing skills.

I barely touched a steering wheel again till late last year, when Parker’s impending arrival, the realisation I had a real job, being past 27 and Tariqa’s … encouragement, got my motivation back up. 

I ran out of money a couple of times, and had to cancel what I thought would have been my last lesson - driving on busy motorways, lane changes and parallel parking - because Parker decided to arrive a few days earlier than we expected. That night was my first time driving by myself, which despite the disaster of getting completely lost, gave me the confidence I could actually make a car go forwards in the direction I wanted it to, etc.

Now, after spending a couple of months sometimes bussing, sometimes driving to work with the well-rehearsed (in my mind) ‘But officer, I’m 28 - I have a family - I’m not some 15-year-old hoon, I’m just trying to get to work,’ spiel ready to go, I have my restricted licence. The testing guy was a dick (’For the love of god, look out!’ when I was travelling 30km/h down an empty road towards a deserted pedestrian crossing), but gave me a pass, despite not saying a single nice thing about my driving skills from the time we met till the time we parted (where he took care to lock his door, but left the window wide open). 

I was driving home today in heavy lunchtime traffic, and realised, holy shit - I’m an Auckland commuter, in my own car, driving home from work to my family, listening to the Rolling Stones and Floyd on a Friday afternoon with the window down. 

In my defence there are no buses at 4.30am for my morning commute, and even if there were, I’m sure they’d still find a way to take 45 minutes to get to Eden Terrace. And I was listening to Bis and the Talking Heads, which are still cool. Aren’t they?

Mirrored from Radio Over Moscow.

When I was younger I told myself I was never going to get a driver's license; and/or I was never going to buy a vehicle until I could get either a Formula One racing car or a tank. I suppose now I'll just have to settle for being in the 99.9th percentile of such madness, as (with a little help/pressure from the gf) I'm now the proud (I suppose) holder of a learner's license.

It was easy to get too. I completed the test in less time than it took to queue up for it! And I only got one question wrong - lets just say if I'm drving you somewhere and we're heading into the sun, you'd better remind me to slow down and pull over until the sun is no longer in our eyes. Or something. It was a silly question.

So if nothing else, this means I'll be able to become a member of any future video stores/libraries without drama. That, and I can finally retire my 18+ card - though it is without a doubt the card I've managed not to lose the longest! I must've lost about ten EFTPOS cards since 1999, yet ye olde 18+ has always been there. It doesn't even expire till 2010, though I already bear only a vague resemblance to the skinny, stubbly teen in the picture (which I took myself in a sticker booth, in the K Mart plaza).

Only a couple of months, if that, before I start my course. It can't come too soon, I'm hating my job even more than ever at the moment. The hypocrisy is getting pretty silly. After a lecture from our team manager about the importance of customer service (and how it is on an equal footing with sales), he unveiled the targets for the next quarter - call quality and service are no longer measured, and the importance of sales has increased from 50% of our targets to 70%. And if you tried calling us today and were on hold for a long, long time, that'd be 'cause at a point where we already had 33 calls waiting to be answered, the entire staff on this floor were pulled off the phones to award someone a prize for getting second place in sales for the past few weeks. Priorities, huh.

Okay, it's actually the next day now, the last Friday before Annual Gift Day. It's going to be perhaps the least exciting Annual Gift Day ever, as I've already got the presents from Tariqa (early presents both of them - new shoes and driver's license) and my mum and sister ($50 of Warewhare vouchers)... though Tariqa has picked up an extra present for me, which I've guessed are socks. A traditional present, she said... I have to make sure wherever we go over the Annual Gift Day and Month Counting Reset day breaks that there's TV though, as TV2 is replaying Lost season two, late at night. I missed Lost the first time it played, in civilian hours, so am catching up... tiredly.

WEEKLY TOP FIVE!!!

1. The Decemberists - Picaresque
2. The Beatles - Love
3. My Morning Jacket - Z
4. My Chemical Romance - The Black Parade
5. Grandaddy - The Fambly Cat

You know you're working in a call centre when you go to bowl a bouncy stress ball to someone across the room from you, and they whip out a hidden cricket bat. Dang Indians and their natural cricket abilities. And there's always one guy who tends to exaggerate the truth a little, though I'm sure that's common to every workplace, not just call centres.

Last week our particular guy told me when he was last in the US, he saw a one TERABYTE iPod. And he just told me now that George Lucas is remaking Star Wars 4-6, with a new cast.

WTF?!