North Penn, if all of you promise not to tell, I’ve decided to let you in on a little quirk of mine that I consider to be rather endearing on the right day. See, I like to keep lists: lists of things I need to do for college (which has remained dauntingly unchecked,) lists of articles I need to write (which, to Mr. Manero’s dismay, is shorter than it ought to be,) and lists of people karma may or may not have missed (which is a long one,) just to name a few. But making its rather worrisome debut in my mental collection is a list of the number of times I’ve almost died in North Penn’s parking lot. To put this in perspective, we’ve been in school for about a month now and within that span I’ve narrowly avoided about five collisions with as much skill and grace as the front passenger can muster. For those as bad at math as I am, that’s about one potential accident every week, an insane statistic for a parking lot of all places.

So to where can this spike of near death experiences be attributed? I see you seniors and juniors, trying to hide behind your phones and computer screens. You know who you are… But just in case you’re in denial, and I’m not just talking the river in Egypt, I’ve created Kate’s Continuum of Chaotic Commuting.

LEVEL 1: If you think you fall into this category, demand a high five from the person sitting closest to you. You’re the type of person that almost always looks where you going, never forgetting that it’s left, right, and then left again before pulling out. You know that your car definitely won’t make that turn unless you’ve used your blinkers effectively, (it really won’t, will it?) and you watch out for people on the parking lot because they’re your friends. Nothing kills a friendship more than a dead bestie, pun totally intended. You’re one of the best drivers here at North Penn among bus drivers and teachers. Mothers everywhere hold you dear in their anxious hearts.

LEVEL 2: Level twos, you’re all probably the type of drivers that have witnesses, so you’d better be honest with yourselves. You may have one or two friends in the car that will just die if they take the bus another day, but they’re relatively well behaved because they know you have the power to make them walk home. It’s important to avoid people that have an inclination for picking up teenage hitchhikers; the candy is never as good as you think it will be. You’re definitely guilty of forgetting a turn signal from time to time, but hey, aren’t we all? You’re the type of person that reminds other drivers that we’re all human, and humans make mistakes. If only you could remember about that ‘STOP’ sign at the end of driveway!

LEVEL 3: We’re taking a turn onto the wild side, and that’s right, blinker free. You’re friends are recreating their own soap opera version of the day’s events in the passenger seats, and that vehement “omigod, Jimmy did what?” can be responsible for jerking the wheel just a little too hard in the wrong direction. Perhaps through two parking spaces. Perhaps into the car in front of you. Perhaps into poor Jimmy who never saw it coming. You’re bordering on reckless endangerment when you see an opening fit for a tricycle but try to squeeze in before the following car catches up. But that’s why other cars have breaks, right? So that when you mistake your gas pedal for the break, they have time to react.

LEVEL 4: One morning while you were eating a hearty breakfast of Captain Crunch, you probably cut out the prize coupon on the back, but instead of mailing it in to claim your lifetime supply of Berry Crunch, you tried to pass it as your driver’s license. Your music is cranked loud to block out the incessant angry honking that follows in your wake, and you never let anyone in front of you. You’ve got places to be, people to see, and all those other cute rhymes that condone terrible driving. The octagonal STOP signs are optional, and you vaguely remember it means something along the lines of Slight Tap On Pedal, but you guessed on that knowledge question. It doesn’t bother you too much though because when people see you coming, they jump out of the way with fear in their eyes. Life is pretty good when the roads are clear and the lights are green, (that last one was only turning pink, officer, I swear!)

Navigating the parking lot is too scarily like that iconic scene from movie Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. Everyone is going the wrong way but is too stubborn to see it until they’re caught between two trucks. Well, maybe not trucks, but buses are still a possibility. There’s only so much other people can do to make us better drivers, and that’s because ultimately the decision is up to every one of us behind the wheel. I like my lists and all, but if we can make the change from near-deaths to lives saved, that’s a compilation I’d be much more willing to keep.