Patience is a VIRTUE!

Man, I got hacked off when I had to go for my motorcycle P plates twice. (Although, credit where it's due, the bloke giving the test got fired a couple of months later for discrimination; he wasn't letting any women get their licences. I didn't know this at the time, mind you...)

 

On some level, I feel that he was performing a public service.

Since the advent of mobile telephones, there has been nothing more dangerous than a woman at a four-way stop.

 

Davis, I ride a motorbike. I have a phone, but most of time I can't even hear it if it goes off and I'm riding. Even when I do, I don't bother trying to answer. By the time I pulled over and got my helmet and gloves off and found the phone in my satchel it'd be on my voicemail.

Although, yes, some women should not be allowed to own mobile phones, let alone use them in traffic. Yeesh!

 

The boyfriend was failed on his first try because he didn't look into his blind spots.

He couldn't, because the vehicle he was driving was shaped so that you couldn't without taking your eyes off the road for more than it was safe, and didn't, because the mirrors were fitted with round mirrors so you could glance at your blind spots in the mirrors.

On his second try, the assessor took one look at the previous assessment sheet, told the boyfriend to turn left out of the carpark, and they drove around for about fifteen minutes talking about their favourite moments from Red Dwarf.

 

I never had the time to get a driver's license, because of the long hours I had to work. (I still haven’t got the time to get a driver's license.)

 

I failed my first driving test for turning too sharply. I failed my second driving test for not turning sharply enough. I failed my third for driving too fast. I failed my fourth for driving too slowly. Finally passed my fifth.

 

I might fail. Will take the tests in two weeks. We'll see how it goes.

 

I passed first time. Today I clipped an Escalade. Wasn't my fault though. Whee!

 

I passed mine. It was really easy.

Cop: "Ok turn right out of the lot here. Now turn left at the lights. Pull along the curb. Now back up in a straight line. Good job, now 3 point turn and bring us back. Well done, now go get your license."

 

I have yet to take it.

 

Best. Assessment. EVER. *starts humming the Red Dwarf theme*

 

Poor Volvo.

 

You'll like this story then.

My friend David has a twin brother Daniel. Daniel is one of the best drivers I've met in my entire life, no holds barred. He's absolutely brilliant. Once, however, his car was in for servicing and the only car he could get his hands on for the duration was the dreaded Volvo. His usually incredible driving went to shit. David was sitting in the passenger seat, bug-eyed with terror, while I was in the back seat swearing like a wounded pirate. Finally we made it across Sydney and almost killed the twins' father's car when we parked. Long moment's silence...

Then David and I shared a Look. "FUCKING VOLVO DRIVERS!"

I fully maintain Volvos are designed to be fucking impossible to drive.

 

Guees we exports all the bad Volvos. I'm training with a Volvo right now, and there's no problem with our car. It's even better than all the other cars I've driven (which ain't a lot, but still).

 

The boyfriend's uncle actually cut out the floor on the bottom of the Ovlov (yes, the Ovlov), to frighten pedestrians in the middle of the city (where it usually slows to a crawl come rush hours) by pretending it was a Flinstones car and using his feet to 'push off' at the lights.