I am the best driver ever.
When I was first learning to drive, I drove my Mom's car 3 miles with the parking brake on. I wondered why it didn't have much power.
When I switched from a standard transmission to an automatic, I frequently stomped on the floorboard with my left foot looking for the clutch pedal. A few of my friends suggested I install a fake one.
At work, when I was learning to drive a forklift, I picked up a skid stacked 7 feet high with a few hundred small, light-weight plastic fans. I was driving down the aisle at full speed in reverse (necessary when you can't see over the load) when the lift started veering to the right. I turned the steering wheel to straighten the lift's path, but I turned the wrong way and slammed into a post. The fans went flying and were scattered all over the aisle. A few people stopped to help me pick them up. After they were restacked, I realized I could not wrap them because they were stacked against the mast of the forklift, and I could not move the lift because it was still backed up against the post. I tried to move the skid, but when I stopped, I hit the brake too hard, and the fans went everywhere again.
Another thing about the forklift is the directional control (forward and reverse) is a small lever on the left side of the steering column where the turn signal is on a car. So, when I left work, I got in my car, started the engine, turned on my right turn signal, revved the engine, and wondered why my car wouldn't move.
I did all that sober, and people wonder why I'm afraid to drink.