Midnight Drive, Lake Bemidji Toni Judnitch   I am dysfunctional. I don’t drive. There is something about sitting in a giant, speeding metal box that doesn’t appeal to me, and all of my friends have been driving so long that they can’t teach me anyway. I’m also great at making excuses. This friend drives a Jeep. I don’t want to die in a Jeep, but I don’t want to go home either, so I tell her to take the long way and smile when she starts to head out of town. “This is spontaneity. This is living,” I think as I rest my head on the seatbelt, but then she takes a left turn, and I know it’s just a little drive in the…