Not THIS shit again…
Hey, guess who gets to take her driving test again? And guess who isn’t likely to pass it on the first go?
Yeah. Apparently, no matter how experienced you may be — and I commuted fifty-ump miles a day down the I-95 corridor for a quarter of a century — the British driving test is no gimme. They recommend you take lessons. From an instructor.
It’s not about learning to drive, it’s about learning to pass the driving test.
Like histrionically checking all the mirrors before pulling out. And putting on the handbrake at stop signs. According to the handy self-study DVD Uncle B bought me for Christmas, the average successful applicant has spent 20 hours studying the manual and 45 hours driving.
Driving on the wrong side of the road. Roundabouts. Driving Uncle Badger’s car.
I am so screwed.
I took my first driving test in Smithville, Tennessee. I had to drive once around the public square. Took about ten minutes. Along the way, my examiner asked me to do several things that were highly illegal, like park blocking a driveway. I wondered if he was testing me, but it turned out he just didn’t want to get his shoes wet in the puddle by the legal spot.
Oh, I am so screwed.
March 11, 2009 — 8:29 pm
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