Trash can casualty

After an hour of learning how to park, I'm pretty darned proud of the fact that the only thing I hit was a garbage can.

My instructor, Lino, is puzzled by the technique that I use to turn the steering wheel. I look more like I'm twisting balloon animals than driving. He is even more baffled by my habit of letting go of the wheel while the car is still in motion. In my defense, after three decades of being a passenger, it's easy to forget that I'm the one who is supposed to be driving. Especially since Lino takes care of so much of the braking for me.

I explained that I have very poor motor skills, both fine and gross. Lino thought I meant that I had an actual, diagnosable condition of some sort. No, I told him, I'm just uncoordinated and spastic, in a non-medical sense. When I told him that my nickname is Calamity Jenni, he nervously tried to laugh it off. He ended the lesson early.

Notes to the couple fooling around in their car in the Home Depot parking lot:
a) I didn't choose to circle around you and park in each and every spot adjacent to your car for an entire hour. Lino was unabashedly enjoying what he called "the free show."
b) You may not be aware of this, but your windows aren't tinted.
c) Get a room.