This next story is just one for the ages. There's no way in hell that we could ever get away with anything like this nowadays, which is probably a good thing too! It's really hilarious when I think about Driver's Ed. That's right, Driver's Education. Have any of you gone through that program while you were in high school? It was really a great idea to have someone else teach us how to drive. Let a complete stranger get the high blood pressure and stomach ulcers, and leave our parents alone. We'll need their forgiveness and patience for more important things, like the first time we come home drunk, or when we get caught in that big lie, and of course, as always, report card day!The program that I attended was run out of Countess Moore high school. It was myself, along with two friends, Ronnie Gallo, and Michael Baroz. Ronnie was another friend who lived one block over on VanName Ave. Every Saturday we would either have someone drive us, or we would take a bus to the school for our lesson.Now I have'ta say right off the bat, that Ronnie was the worst fucking driver that I have ever seen in my life. No really, just ask Michael. Ronnie says that we're full'a shit, but believe me, I was in the back seat while this madman was behind the wheel. And all I can say is WOW!Well, we were several weeks into the program, and all three of us were doing just fine. No accidents or deaths, not even so much as a parking ticket. We were hot shit baby! And then we went and crossed that line of no return.This one particular week we showed up for our lesson. We were waiting on the front steps of the school for our instructor. His name escapes me right now, but that's not important. What is important though, is the fact that this guy was the biggest geek this side of the Mississippi. And good thing too, or we would've gotten into big trouble. He was your typical nerdy-looking guy, with thick black framed glasses, and the old plastic pocket protector in his shirt pocket.The three of us were sitting there waiting for this butthead, who was now thirty minutes late. So we just figured that he wasn't coming, for whatever reason. Now fuck, what the hell were we gonna do with ourselves?Well, being that we now had some time to kill, someone came up with the idea of getting some beers! Beautiful, man! We all agreed!Now we were only sixteen at the time. But hey, who cares! It was also the middle of winter with snow and ice on the ground. Again, who cares! All the more reason to crack open a few. When all else fails, and your driving instructor doesn't show up, it's Miller Time!We walked over to the deli, bought a couple six packs, and strolled over to a small wooded area along side the school. We were having a grand ole' time, with frozen breath pouring from our mouths in-between sips. There's nothin' like hangin' out in the middle of winter drinkin' beer with your buddies. That's really the only time you can get away with shit like that, when you were sixteen. Now that we're all older, it just doesn't seem right. Oh, wait. We were just drinkin' beers in the parking lot at the Black Sabbath concert last week, and it's the middle of February! OK, so fuck it, I'm forty goin' on sixteen. Some things were just not meant to change!Well, we just about had all the beers gone when the greatest thing that could ever happen, happened. Who pulls up to the front steps of the school an hour and a half late, but our incredibly naive driving instructor? That's right baby, we is goin' drivin'!"Oh shit, guys look! The geek's here!" And with that, the three of us each took one last gigantic swig to ignite the buzz and started for the car. And now let the fun begin!As the instructor pulled up, we came running outta the woods, and headed for the car. Now, I forget who got behind the wheel first. I think it was me, Michael, then, Mario fucking Andretti (Ronnie). Both Michael and myself cruised without incident. Then, it was his turn! And Ron, if you're reading this right now, you'd better be laughin' muthafucka! Because you know it's true you hump! You were a disaster behind the wheel!Anyway, Ronnie climbed into the driver's seat. He then gracefully turned on the directional, and stuck his hand out the window to pull away from the curb. Then, fuckin' floored it! Zero-to-sixty in one second! Michael and myself were already grasping onto anything our fingers could sink in to.Actually, he was doing pretty well, albeit he was doin' it at ninety miles an hour, but doing pretty well nonetheless. Until, we got to Rockland Ave. Holy Mother of God, look out! This is where Ronnie came up with one of the greatest lines I have ever heard. Just keepin' up with traffic! Beautiful! I use this line still to this day when I catch myself doin' ninety-four in a twenty-five mile an hour zone!Now, Rockland Ave is one of those narrow winding roads that can kill you on a nice sunny dry day, let alone a cold icy one. Well, we hit Rockland with a vengeance. By now our fingers were raw, and practically bleeding from holding onto things in the backseat. We were cruising at a nice speed when all of the sudden BANG, BANG, BANG! "Oh fuck, we're gonna die!"The street had huge puddles of water that had frozen over, creating a one-foot high curb of ice on either side of the street. Ronnie began to bounce off of the curb of ice like he was in a fuckin' stock car race. We were just about crying in the back when the instructor says, "OK, Ronnie, I think we're going a little bit too fast!" A little too fast, ffuuuuccckk!!! Cape or no cape Superman may be faster than a speeding bullet, but he ain't catchin' up to fuckin' Ronnie. No way man!Again, the instructor says, "Let's slow it down Ronnie!" And then, the immortal words, "But I'm only keeping up with traffic!" Keepin' up with traffic? He was the goddamn traffic!Thank the Lord there was no one in front of us, because Ronnie would've run him right off the road! Oh, man, you really had to be in the car to get the full appreciation of it all. The instructor was sweating bullets. Michael and me were half drunk, clinging for our lives in the backseat, and Ronnie was quietly and calmly sitting behind the wheel, as if he were driving Miss fucking Daisy to the corner store! It was just an honest response he gave. It was truly a gift from the Gods those words just keeping up with traffic. Fuckin' beautiful, man!We finally escaped the Rockland Ave racetrack only to find ourselves in a small predicament. All three of us had to relieve ourselves. You know, take a piss! And a big one too! Between the beers, the cold weather, and the Coney Island bumper cars, it was like someone had two hands wrapped around our bladders, and they were squeeeeeeeezing. So this is where one of the coolest things to ever happen happened. Oh, wait, didn't I just say that? Well, too bad, because it was the coolest thing ever!Ronnie found a semi out of the way overpass that was underneath the West Shore Expressway. It was by Arthur Kill Road & Huguenot Ave, for anyone who cares to know. He pulled over to the curb, and the three of us jumped out at the same time, and lined up against the cement wall. Whipped our dicks out, and soon, three gigantic streams of steaming Budweiser were marking the wall. Resembling the photo that was on an album cover from one of our favorite bands, The Who. The album was called Who's Next, which depicts the four band members peeing on a huge cement block in the middle of nowhere.It was a proud moment for us, and quite an accomplishment, in our eyes anyhow. (My God, just listen to what I just said!) When we got back to the car, the instructor goes, "Have you guys been drinking or something?" We just cracked up in his face, and said, "Hell no!" And with that, Ronnie slipped the car into gear, and like a bat outta hell, headed back to the start. We would survive yet another foolish teenage adventure!The classes seemed to help Ronnie and myself. We both passed the driving portion of the test. Michael failed the driving part. Oh, Mike, how could you, you spaz! But hey, I failed the written test the first time I took it. What a dick! I think fuckin' Mario passed everything the first time around. Shit, maybe we should've driven like psychopaths. It might've helped us on our tests!But hey, doesn't that Motor Vehicle office suck? No wonder I failed. I was surrounded by every category of degenerate known to man. Who the fuck can concentrate in that environment?Anyway, all three of us are still driving to this day. We just don't pee on overpass walls anymore. We just pee in parking lots, between the cars when we go to concerts! Ha! Drive on muthatrucka!
