Me as a 15 year old: I had just gotten my permit, logged over a dozen hours already, and was becoming quite good at being my mum’s driver. I was warned in Driver’s Ed that if I ever got a ticket or got into a crash while on a permit that the State would likely delay my license until 18, so I was extremely careful.

One day I was piloting my mum’s GMC Envoy XL (great vehicle for learning lol) through the drive through of a Dairy Queen when a clapped out Ford Taurus rammed us from behind. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” started running through my teenage mind.

Everyone agreed to get their ice cream then pull into the parking lot to wait for the police and exchange insurance info.

We got our ice cream and before we could even pull away he somehow managed to ram us again, bringing me to tears while licking an ice cream cone. Contrary to popular belief, ice cream doesn’t make everything better.

The police officer assured that since the dude with nearly a foot wide swollen foot shouldn’t have been driving, it’s very much his fault and I’d be okay.

It somehow took about four to get the damage fixed (new tailgate and bumper) but that was okay, I got to drive a wide variety of crapboxes from Enterprise and got my license after nine months and nearly 500 hours of logged driving.

I’m still kinda mad that a proud me handed over 10 pages of driving logs only for the DMV worker to throw them out without even a glance.