P Plates


I was thinking about the P plate driving tests the other day. Mine were a fucking joke. My parents never wanted to bother driving with me so paid for me to get a driving instructor who turned out to be a senile nutjob and then my mother just forged the rest of the hours. I think I did about 30 hours in the end. My instructor was such a weirdo. He told me you aren’t allowed to look at the road or behind you while you reverse park, and if you do you will fail in the test so to be careful. He would also point out every overweight girl he noticed while I was driving and would say things like “Look at them! Look how fat they are! Imagine how they will look when they’re older!” and frankly I was just trying to focus on the road because that was about all he would talk about so I had no real idea how to drive. I went on to fail the test as my reverse park was terrible as I was convinced I wasn’t allowed to look. Eventually I got a new instructor who was sane and after 3 lessons passed the test the second time. I safely went on to not have an accident for about 2 years. Then I had 2 in the space of a year and nearly died on the last one. My bad.


– Lonely Kids Club


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