When I tell people I have my car up at school, their reaction is usually something along the lines of “Aw, I’m jealous–I wish I had my car up here.” They think it’s so ‘cool’ and ‘awesome.’
But let me tell you, the novelty of having wheels wore off quickly and became more of a constant headache.
Sure, I love being able to drive around and do my grocery shopping on my own schedule, but it’s genuinely the worst when I have to channel my superhuman senses to avoid hitting someone late for class or stumbling around in a drunken stupor. Food delivery drivers, I feel for you. The requests for rides and always feeling obligated to drive friends around is just plain tiresome, and even less fun when I come back to find a ticket on my car.
The first year I had my car at college was a very unhappy one for my wallet. It was difficult to keep track of all the places I couldn’t park. I received multiple tickets per semester for parking my hot wheels wherever I pleased. I need both hands to count the number of tickets I’ve collected–and the amount of money I’ve paid easily adds up into the three digits.
The on-campus parking pass wasn’t cheap either. I would park at my boyfriend’s apartment complex overnight sometimes, but I learned the hard way that you can say “bye bye bye” to your vehicle if it isn’t registered in their system. Come hell or high water, they will tow it. Just another $140 out of my crying wallet.
And basically every time I drove home or back to school I was pulled over for speeding. By the time I escaped my sophomore year, I’d racked up $250 in speeding tickets to my name. I’d like to say I learned my lesson–but no such luck.
Two months ago, I dropped my sister off at her apartment after we’d been studying. OK I’ll admit it; I was going a bit over the speed limit, but I was trying to make a light before it turned red.
As soon as I made that right turn, I saw those all too familiar blue and red lights behind me. Shit. My parents are going to kill me.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the cop asked.
“Um–I was speeding,” I said shakily.
He started lecturing me on how I was going way too fast and putting pedestrians’ safety at risk. Not only did he ask if I had been drinking but the officer made me blow into a Breathalyzer to make sure. The whole thing was almost comical. (Almost.) It came out 0.00 but even then he wasn’t going to let me off easy. The officer fined me $140 and put three points on my license.
My parents didn’t kill me, but they were pretty pissed about it.
Just the other week, I was driving down a street that was a short cut to get to my apartment. Now yes, technically, the street says “Do Not Enter,” but I knew the road was usually so empty you’d probs see a tumbleweed drift past. I’ve seen others who take their chances bending this rule and thought it was worth the shot.
Yet again, those flashing blue and red lights foiled me.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?” the cop asked.
“Yes, I do,” I said with a sigh.
“OK–I’m sure you know this is a one-way street, and I understand it’s a pretty sweet short cut.”
Maybe she’ll be cool about this.
“…so what I’m going to do is give you a warning as long as you promise never to take this short cut again,” she said.
“Thank you so much,” I said. “I promise.”
It was an unfortunate deja-vu moment but it may have been the final nail in the coffin for my “oh-I’m-young-I’ve-got-this” driving days. All of the tickets and fines I’ve received at this point have given me anxiety every time I see a cop on the road. I may be the “girl with the car” on campus but I have to remember my responsibilities as a driver and take care of my buddy with four wheels.
Chopping Off Heads With Investigative Reporter Carol Marbin Miller
