Learning to Drive :: Day Eight :: Nerves

My Tough Mudder. The last time I did something that made me feel sick with fear.

Apparently 1) you’ve more chance of passing your test at the beginning of the month than at the end 2) Blackburn has relatively easy test routes and 3) the potassium in bananas alleviates nervousness.

My test is in about 14 hours’ time.

I really hope I don’t mess it up.

Ultimately of course, it is a complete waste of time and energy to worry about such things.

Much more sensible to worry about the kind of examiner I’m going to get.

Two of my fellow learners – let’s call them Milo and Terri – had their tests last week and each had very different experiences with their examiners.

Milo was a very superstitious man, a man unable to pass a magpie without saluting it. I saw Milo after his test. He had failed, with two non-minor infractions. The first was staying out of a bus lane which was not at that time in use (which seems rather mean to me). The second was a repeated failure to check his mirrors. Fair enough. Milo’s examiner, however, at least according to Milo, was ‘a fucking prick’. The very first eye contact filled Milo – who is a very upbeat, smiley, sociable chap – with dread. His examiner did not smile, did not talk small, and basically showed no humanity whatsoever. ‘I bet he was a Man United fan,’ said Milo, a thick-accented Scouser.

I saw Terri before her test. She was explaining how she had just got changed into the t-shirt she got for completing the Tough Mudder obstacle course. She thought it might bring her luck to wear something that commemorated another challenge she had feared but ultimately overcome.

I saw her after the test. Her examiner had not only greeted her with smiles, but the first thing he said, pointing at her t-shirt, was that he too had done the Tough Mudder challenge. So they bonded over that even before they got in the car. After which, she said he was nice as pie throughout the test, chatting and laughing and putting her totally at her ease. She passed. Only three minors. She said the fact that her examiner was nice to her made absolutely all the difference.

So.

The above photo – me on GMTV – is my Tough Mudder t-shirt. This blog post is me, wearing it.

Fourteen hours.

Apparently, if I stay focused, I should be OK.

Wish me luck.

 

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