“It’s a pity you have to take the bus back to Cork, Shelly. If only you could drive!” Thanks, everyone. Duly noted.
You may have previously read about my inability to drive and lack of desire to do so. I am a proud passenger of public transport despite its tardiness and persistent attempts to break my soul on a daily basis. Furthermore, my knowledge and interest in cars has always been minimal at best. I have to memorise licence plates to differentiate SO’s blue car from stranger’s blue car. I can’t even stand Top Gear.
Nevertheless, the time has come. I have given in to peer pressure and societal norms. Much like the reluctant purchase of health insurance and the less reluctant bottle of red wine, the next adult step is learning to drive.
T- minus Three Weeks
The driver theory test has been booked. No going back now. 45 quid like!
T-minus Two Weeks
The book has been purchased. Browsing begins. It all seems pretty straightforward! Don’t intentionally knock down an elderly woman at a pedestrian crossing? Fair enough.
I spoke too soon. Hello, technical section. Coolant temperature and tyre pressure? I’ve never felt like more of a ditzy girl in all my life. When God was dispensing information on catalytic converters, it appears I was dancing in pink glitter and painting my nails.
T-minus One Week
Serious flashbacks to Leaving Cert revision time. I am currently in search of a yellow highlighter. Procrastinating by contemplating necessity of other colours of highlighters…does anyone even use the blue one??
T-minus Two Days
The book has been completed. Now to bask in the glow of having absorbed very little. Re-reading begins.
T-minus One Day
I’ll study in the morning.
Morning of Test
I should have studied last night.
Last minute cramming for an exam that many people don’t study for and manage to sail through. The shame if I fail. Reconsidering ideas for new article.
Entering Exam Room
Everyone else is 12 years old. There’s a guy in his school blazer. Keep head down and pretend to look 17.
Exiting Exam Room
I’m the first to leave…is that good or bad?!
Although the depressed RSA worker didn’t fling confetti or even confirm that I had actually passed, I did! Evidently I still do not understand cycle lanes, so pedal hard and fast away from me.
So the hard part is well and truly over. Now for the tiny obstacle of learning how to drive without killing or maiming self/others.
SO congratulates me by expressing his disdain for my ineptitude at the wheel of his Batmobile, so apparently I will be learning the ropes in a cardboard box.