While dropping off a couple friends today, we got into a conversation about lessons we had to take when first learning to drive. D, who is also from New Jersey, started to relay what I thought would be a similar experience. In some ways it wasn’t.
D: My driving instructor was named Frank. He had some harsh things to say about minority and women drivers.
In other ways it was.
D: (continuing) I wonder if he would have behaved differently around women or minority students.
K: Well, my driving instructor happened to be named Frank, too.
D: Did you take lessons from Edison Driving School?
K: (laughing) Actually, I did.
D: (laughing) Then maybe it was the same guy. I liked Frank, though, because he let me drive on the highway.
K: Same here.
Maybe it was a different Frank, but if not, it’s interesting how he was able to transition between seemingly different personalities so effortlessly.