This One Time... When I Got My Permit.

...at band camp. Okay, for real. A long time ago, back when I was 15, I was living in Utah and cheating off of Blake to get my driver's license. Seriously. Never changed a tire and didn't do most of my study book because I went to Paris for my 16th birthday. Sorry mom and thank you, Blake!

So there I was, trying to learn how to parallel park, keep my hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock, and avoid getting flipped off on the freeway. That's right, the first time I ever merged from the on-ramp to the highway, I was flipped the big 'ole birdie by some jerkface driver. My dad, in the passager seat, with his foot on an imaginary accelerator, just laughed. 

For practice, my dad would have me drive to the bottom of the hill by taking the highway and then we would stop off at the one and only... KrispyKreme. But only if the red light of goodness was on. That meant they were hot, fresh, and fully lardified. You got a free one just walking in the door. Now that is quality service! ...and alo probably the reason why KrispyKreme exploded too quickly and went completely out of stand-alone-business in less than a year*. 

Got some donuts today... for throwback Thursday..? 

So my dad and I would drive to the KrispyKreme so I could get in all my required permit hours, a sugar rush, and we would pick up a dozen donuts. 6 regular and 6 assorted.  Every time. Then I would get a little chocolate milk and he would get a regular one, and we would sit in the lobby and eat 3 each before we packed up to drive back home. 

Utah was also the time in my life when I found the hilarious comedian known as Brian Regan. If you do not know of him... I suggest you introduce ya-self. Here is a little snippet about the very true dilemma in choosing the assorted donuts. Because, let's face it, those are the hardest to choose.

That was back in the day when I was allowed the pleasure of driving the 1995 Ford Contour, my dad's car, as to which we fondly named 'Old Faithful'. It was, for all intent and purposes, a car for me to drive my brother and me to school and then to gymnastics, but was never considered my car. Well it was considered my car when something bad happened. Like that one time that house next door jumped out in front of me...

Long story short, I used to park the car in the empty house next us carport. It was a single and helped shelter my car from being covered in Utah snow, so it worked. Well one night my dad parked the car and apparently put the wheel all the way to the left. That was a problem because at 7:50am when Nelson and I were running later for school, I was looking over my left shoulder as I was backing out to the driveway... completely unaware that the car was veering to the right, right where the side of the house was... And WHAMO, the house hit me. And for a long time in my life I could say that I had never hit a car, just a house. But unfortunately that is not the case anymore. My speciality is hitting non-moving objects, its a skill. 

So there's the story of why KrispyKreme is so important to me and my plight of driving. 

Boom. Posted.

*This is not a verified fact, check Wikipedia for real answers.