Busy day. Took the road test for my CDL (commercial drivers license) late this morning, and that alone ate up two hours of time. The test consists of three sections; a pre-trip inspection where one describes the various aspects of the bus down to the torque necessary to crank down the lugnuts onto the rim, a skill-course where one must display driving abilities including parallel parking, and a road course that winds through town.
Coolness personified was the fact that the DOT range also houses the State Police Dog Training Facility, and I got to watch the occifers putting several beautiful Alsatians through their paces. Wouldn't wish for one of those blood-thirsty canines taking a chunk for a souvenir, nosirree Bob.
Uncoolness personified was the grouchy old frig who administered the test. Did I get the nice old lady who walks around with a gigunda umbrella all day, or the portly chap with the porkpie hat, or the ancient mariner with the peg leg?
Nope. Sammy Surly was the sort who smiles as he's telling you that should you miss an instruction from him, might as well go home and never darken their doorstep again. I kept thinking of a bloated Anthony Perkins practicing his best Psycho-Stare, and often had to turn my face least I guffaw right in his. All that time in the Corps had long since immunized me from madmen-wannabees looking for a Starling to intimidate, and he did his thang, no gunfire was exchanged, so all went well.
Now maybe I'll think about a pilots license.
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