"Fuck," Stephen said to himself as he stared at the computer screen. Fifteen out of twenty meant he'd failed again...by a single point. After waiting in line for hours behind the other peons at the Driving Test Facility located in the Canotek area in eastern Ottawa, Ontario. For the second time in about an hour, Stephen failed the second half of the damned written test. He'd worried so much about the signs that he overlooked the rules of the road, and now he was paying the price...sixteen bucks per attempt.
"Mr. Stephen, how did you do?" asked the nerdy, bespectacled young white woman sitting at the desk right next to the exam room. Stephen got up, grabbed his backpack and exited the facility. He'd never failed an exam like this. Hell, he'd aced the LSAT without much prep and graduated from Carleton University with honors. How could the Ontario written driving test kick his ass? Dammit, this sucks.
"I'm out of here," Stephen said to no one in particular as he got the hell out of the driving test center. He made a beeline for the parking lot, and ran up the hill. He grabbed the first OC Transpo bus he saw, and hurried out of there. I'm such a loser, Stephen thought dourly. He'd seen various folks walk out with their new temporary licences, all proud and shit, and he felt envious. Why couldn't he be so lucky?
Stephen shook his head as he thought of the sacrifices he'd made just to get to the test center. Yesterday, he'd come on his day off, and aced the first half of the test, the one having to do with road signs, while missing the mark on the second half, the one having to do with road rules. To Stephen, a lifelong passenger who dreamed of driving, cars were a mysterious lot and the open road was as unpredictable as a storm-tossed sea. Still, a man must move forward, right?
Stephen woke up at six o'clock on that fateful morning, grabbed the bus and then hiked on foot to get to the driving test center. He'd studied the night before and done the practice tests online. What the fuck did those damn Canadian DMV people want from him? Stephen remembered feeling amazed when the bozos working there told him that they only served people born between certain dates due to Covid restrictions. Canadian obstructionism at its best. Makes me miss Boston, Stephen thought sadly.