Note to self: sarcasm will get you nowhere with a driving teacher.

Lesson One consisted of Jay familiarizing himself with exactly what I could and could not do, with an emphasis on the latter. He tried to teach me how to parallel park, but I had a great deal of trouble with the backing up part. Jay told me that I was too stiff, that I was taking this driving thing too seriously. “What are you—some kind of investment banker?” he asked me.

Investment banker—ha. No, I’m just a Harvard student.

During that first lesson, I also learned how to change lanes in the face of a sea of oncoming traffic. Jay’s method? Give it gas and go.

I survived that first lesson without hitting anyone or causing any major traffic jams, so I considered it a success. But slightly scarred by the nightmare of driving in rush hour traffic, I decided to schedule my second lesson for a Saturday afternoon, figuring this alteration would make Lesson Two a walk in the park. I figured wrong.

While driving along New York’s lower East Side, Jay said to me, “Why don’t you drive up that ramp there?”

“But that ramp will put me on the FDR Drive,” I protested. The FDR Drive is one of New York City’s major highways, notorious for its heavy traffic.