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Gombrowicz, Witold

Lawyer Kraykowski’s Dancer

A few days ago I was driving down the street behind a car which, as was warned by prominent display of rooftop sign, was being operated by a Student Driver… a sign which really wasn’t necessary, given the stammering mid-intersection braking and sideview-mirror clipping taking place all the way down the road, and I had this great idea that it’d be a real public service – a true exercise of civic duty – if other drivers could collectively contribute to driving lessons, by driving like raving lunatics around students, just to get them on their toes and on the lookout.

The fantasies were pretty grand, actually, as I patiently crawled alongside the road behind him, and I was just about to peel around him and slam on the brakes, when from nowhere and with no warning, the student hangs an unannounced left turn and smashes right into a car parked not ten feet away from us.

It occurs to me now that this student might be reading this, and if so, listen, man… there’s still hope for you.

The first time I ever drove I blew an engine. While driving in the middle of a major metropolitan area. And this was about a year before receiving a license. But you know, I was motivated by a determination not unlike that of the star of tonight’s story, although maybe without the desire to receive a beating.

So you stay focused, and stay clear of lawyers.Oh, and while you’re at it, do stay away also from any vehicles I happen to be driving.

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