Channy's Journals #3

I didn't pass my permit test until extremely recently. I had taken it twice before and failed both times because I didn't study whatsoever. The time I actually studied, I passed. It must have been a coincidence. I found four online practice tests and I studied those for a few days. Then the day, I was supposed to go, I could find my birth certificate. I called the place where you take it and this load woman told me I didn't even need it and that all I needed was a note from the school. That was relieving as I couldn't find it for the life of me. I emailed Mr. Matt and asked if could get me one. He said yes and that it would be on his desk. I went to the school, got the paper, returned my Chromebook that I never turned in (because I'm the baddest boy in town) and I thought I was all set. Lo and behold, I needed my birth certificate after all and the roaring lady was yanking my chain. A fat guy with a gross mustache implied that i was lying to him and that no booming female told me that I didn't need it. There wasn't really anything I could do as the certificate that was given to my parents when I came into the world, was lost in space and time forever. My parents had to order a new one so I could take my stupid driver's test. I passed the third time I took it all because I studied. I had received a book from a certain police officer but I couldn't bring myself to read it. I went online and then found those four tests I mentioned and took them all until I got a one hundred on all of them. I went in a few weeks later, strolled up to the desk, plopped my birth certificate right on top and said, "Yo, fat boy, let me one of those machines over there!" He was trembling with fear and beads of sweat were rolling down his plump face. "Y-y-y-yes sir, right away sir." Those were the last words I heard before I passed my test two years late.