Another U3A offering. Just to keep the link going between Witzl and me

DISAPPOINTMENT

I failed my driving test- more than once. However, I had been driving for 10 years at the time I took it, so that made it even more of a disappointment.

I first learned to drive when I was 16, in America. My father taught me, using the back streets of our little town. The test was fairly rigorous in some ways. For instance you had to parallel park, which is a talent that not a lot of Britishers have even having passed their test.

First there was an eye test, and as soon as I saw the chart, I knew I couldn't read the letters. However, the tester was very consistent in always asking people to read from the top to the bottom and from left to right, so being about 6th in line, I easily had the pattern memorised by the time it came to me, and passed without hesitation.

There wasn't a written test in those days but there was a short driving test through the town. Bismarck is a typical American city built on grids. The streets run north and south and the avenues east and west. I drove from the City Hall where the test started, up 6th Street to Avenue A, Right on Avenue A to 10th Street. Then south again for 3 blocks and a parallel park. I had no problems with any of it, and although my score was 76 and the pass mark was 75 or above, the tester told me it would be a good idea if my dad drove with me for awhile yet.

I guess he was right, because within the month I had had two minor crashes. The first time I was picking up a dress that had been altered for me. I decided to pull in and park in a not very big space, rather than the bother with reversing in, and I clipped the back fender of the car in front. I didn't damage him at all, but there was a noticeable dent in my front fender. I decided since nobody noticed the crash, and I hadn't had any damage, that I would just drive off. But I of course I had to account for the damage to my dad, and he went down to the police station to report it, just in case the other car reported any problem later.

Then 2 weeks after that was my 17th birthday, and my friends were having a party for me. I was quite excited about the whole thing and drove straight out of our driveway into the car parked across the road. This time I did quite a lot of damage and I really panicked, and left the car as it was - rushed back into the house in hysteria. Again my dad did the necessary. He informed the neighbour, and the police, and stood by me when the report was being made.

But after that, I had a faultless record. Driving in winter was a challenge - with heavy snow falls and freezing conditions for 7 months of the year. I drove in New York City, and in Chicago. I drove on the super highways. And I felt that I was a good driver.

I was 24 when we arrived in England and soon had two small babies. My husband needed the car for work so I thought I wouldn't bother taking my test just yet. So the time of my first British test, I was probably 28. I took a course of 6 lessons, and felt that I would easily be able to pass the test. Despite my feeling pretty confident, I wasn't very happy about hill starts, coming from a town with no hills. As soon the test started, I slipped on a hill start. Everything else in the test went fine, but as I was certain I had failed I drove through a zebra crossing with somebody waiting, without really even registering that that was what I was doing. So I failed. The instructor said he would have passed my slipped hill start, but couldn't ignore the zebra crossing bit.

I went home, with my ego on the floor, to be met at the door by my children and husband. They had put "Congratulations" signs on the living room wall, and had champagne and steak to celebrate with me. We consumed the goodies anyway, but somehow it didn't make up for the disappointment. I did pass on my third go.