Test Day

"Anyone who drives slower than you is a MORON, anyone who drives faster than you is a MANIAC!" - George Carlin

Throughout this blog, I'll be quoting many of my favorite expressions from popluar culture (movies, music, comedy, etc.) Of course, I will always give credit where it is due (don't want any lawsuits)
O.K., where was I? Ah, yes, test day. A very nervous time for us all. Actually, it was a beautiful day in April, as I recall. The sun was out, all the snow was either melted off or melting, and we were experiencing daylight for the first time in months (Ah, springtime!) Like I mentioned before, all we had to do was show up at our school, since the test was to be taken right there.
The CDL test in Illinois (can't speak for other states, but they're probably the same) is comprised of three parts: the pre-trip inspection, the skills (backing & maneuvering), and the road test. Of the three, the pre-trip was the one most of us worried about. There is so much information you must digest and memorize, it's mind-boggling. Of course, you memorize it in a
particular order, then the testers come and switch everything around, just to make sure you know it. To make matters worse, they had an inspector known as "the Terminator," who made you check everything (I mean EVERYTHING) with a fine-tooth comb. One mistake, you're done. We heard the rumors about this guy, and just prayed he wasn't coming on our test day. No such luck. Sure enough, there he was. One of our instructors came over and whispered,"There he is, the Terminator". He didn't look scary at all. I was expecting a Schwartzenegger-type badass, but instead stood a mild-mannered African-American man, probably mid-thirties, glasses, seemed harmless enough. Well, I was lucky enough not to draw him, but I watched in dismay as he grilled one of my classmateswalking around the truck. Surprisingly, though, he passed the guy (the student was our top guy in class, and would have passed even IF Schwartzenegger had been the tester.
I drew an older (50's) white gentleman, rotund, with a raspy voice, and combed-back salt-and-pepper hair. I was nervous as hell, and forgot something simple, having to do with airing down the brakes, or releasing the brakes at some point. The guy failed me! Shit! He said, "I gave you three chances..." So, I walked away, looking at the ground, feeling like a failure. I had to explain what happened to my classmates and instructors, who were asking. I was one of the better students, but something simple, taken out of sequence, f'ed me up. Meanwhile, I think the Terminator had failed several of us already, so I didn't feel quite so bad. They made us failures wait around until everyone had completed all three parts of their tests. Naturally, if you fail your pre-trip, you can't move on to the skills, etc. You must wait a week (or two?) to re-take your pre-trip (another week of memorizing, worrying, etc.) I remember the head instructor
came up to me and said, "Think of those air brake knobs as tits - PUSH 'EM IN!"
So, the next time, I got a different tester, a younger white dude, and he grilled me pretty good, but I passed the pre-trip with flying colors, as I also did with the skills test. They set up the orange cones, just as they had them set up when we practiced (the instructors always told us,"Think of the cones as people - hit one, and you've killed somebody."). You must do a series of pulling foreward, stopping, straight-backing, and the dreaded 45-degree backing. Looking back, it seems almost comical now. I mean I've done everything from straight to 90-degree backing, blindside, you name it, but back then it was a big deal. On the skills portion of the test, you start out with 12 points (I think). They deduct points for pulling up too far or too short, etc.
But you still cannot hit a cone, or you're done. You have to get 8 out of 12 - I think I finished
with a 9 or 10. And, of course, there were those students who failed at this part of the test as well (nervous Nellies).
The final portion of my test was the road test. No problem, I figured, right? Well, I climb up into the truck (the same one I've been training on for the past few weeks) and who is sitting there? You guessed it. No, not the Terminator (that would have been very ironic), but the same dude that failed me on the pre-trip! Someone had mentioned that today was his birthday (use it!).
He didn't remember me from before - I mean, these guys must test hundreds of students every week. So, we got started. I considered myself pretty good, in the middle of the pack (class). And I tested fairly well. My only mistake was taking the truck out of gear as I approached a stop light, and coasting to a halt. A big no-no, although now, as a professional truck driver, I do it all the time. That's what I tell my daughter about getting your drivers license (she'll be ready in about a year): "Do everything they tell you to do until you get your license, then you can do whatever you want (within reason)." Anyway, I thought I had failed again; the guy didn't say anything, but I worried like hell till we got back and I parked the truck. All he said was "Congratulations" I said "Thank you, and Happy Birthday!", took my certificate and bailed out of that truck as fast as I could. I never knew (or cared) whether he noticed my screw-up, I just figured he was in a good mood since it was his birthday. In fact, I think he passed everyone who rode with him that day. I was walking on a fucking cloud, I was so relieved. "Yes! Yes, motherfucker, yes!" Now off to the Secretary of State's to make it official...

More soon,

Steve