The first time I drove a car on my mission, I had been serving for around a year. My companion, who had something like four more months to go, wanted nothing to do with it. I understood his fears: driving skills atrophy after that much time without.
I may have taken drivers ed in the US, but I didn't finally learn how to really drive until I lived in Europe. There's nothing like blasting down a narrow city street at racing speeds, hearing the click-click-click of the side mirrors hitting their counterparts on the cars parked on either side of the one-way road. And the craziest part? If you don't drive like that then you get assaulted by honking taxi cabs on your tail. My driving habits were engraved on me in Vienna years ago and, much to the dissatisfaction of my fellow Omahans, continue with me still.
I may have taken drivers ed in the US, but I didn't finally learn how to really drive until I lived in Europe. There's nothing like blasting down a narrow city street at racing speeds, hearing the click-click-click of the side mirrors hitting their counterparts on the cars parked on either side of the one-way road. And the craziest part? If you don't drive like that then you get assaulted by honking taxi cabs on your tail. My driving habits were engraved on me in Vienna years ago and, much to the dissatisfaction of my fellow Omahans, continue with me still.
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