Congratulations!

Congratulations!

Well done xLPL. Great news. Now. Having passed that pesky driving test thing – with just two minors (note the Jimmy Saville joke avoidance) – it's time to get on with learning the true art of driving:

Signals: two fingers; one finger (flipping the bird if you're in an American car); one finger with knobs on (sit on it – and swivel); hand in crook of arm, raise up fist (not recommended at high speeds).

Recognise your enemy (other drivers) 1: there's a hat on the back shelf, a Panama or a straw boater. This means the driver is an old bloke, in a short sleeved white shirt. He has large, silver-rimmed spectacles and liver spots. Liable to drive erratically. Albeit slowly erratic. Often accompanied by a small, rotund elderly female who could be a clone of him.

Signals: thanks: the raised palm (the Hitler); the raised finger (the mini-Hitler or too cool for school); the thumbs up (use this for white van men, builders, and lorry drivers).

Recognise your enemy (other drivers) 2: there's a suit on a hanger. Rep. Drives thousands of miles every year. Believes practise makes perfect. Mistakenly thinks he's god's gift to motoring. Liable to drive erratically. Drives most of those thousands of miles very badly. Does not realise that practise makes permanent. Often accompanied by a dazzling array of distracting gadgets.

Parking. Try to remember where you park. This avoids panic attacks and embarrassment (as well as fines for wasting police time).

Parking. Three types of people. The first time, straight in every time perfect parker. The million to-and-fros to get perfect parker. The that'll do, constitutional to the kerb merchant. If you happen to be type one you're lucky. Type two, boring. Type three, like me.

Recognise your enemy (other drivers) 3: Tottenham sticker. Liable to drive erratically. Due to having a very, very small brain. Smaller than a slug's.

Learn the meaning of “the novelty's worn off”, after just the one go: putting in petrol; multi-storey car parks; town centre one way systems; town centre car parks; putting air in the tyres (after finally finding a machine that's working; retail park car parks; drive throughs; the M25; refilling the washers / oil / anything. Road noise when the window's open. Learning about the controls / tyre pressures / finer points of the radio/cd player.

Someone fiddling with the radio so that you get unwanted traffic bulletins. About Scottish snarl-ups. When you're in Brighton.

Recognise your enemy (other drivers) 4: the driver's wearing a hat. Any hat. You don't need a hat in a car. Likely to be a middle aged midlife crisis man. Or a boy racer. Or an elderly woman. Liable to drive erratically. Look, you really don't need a hat in a car.

If your car's anything like mine it's a mobile rubbish bin and accumulates debris at an alarming rate (and minutes after being emptied of rubbish). It constantly demands petrol every five minutes. It's a magnet for dust, dirt, mud, and incontinent seagulls. It has two temperature settings: too hot and much too hot.

Signals: the resigned 'what'd'ya do?' shrug.