Unfiltered Story #143671

, , , | Unfiltered | March 15, 2019

(In the UK, before you are allowed to ride a motorcycle or moped (scooter) on the road as a learner you have to complete a one-day training course called Compulsory Basic Training (CBT) )

Me: “Good morning, *********, ***** speaking”

16 year-old: “Hi there can I book a CBT for Saturday please?”

Me: Yep, no problem, what’s your name?

16 year old: gives name

Me: (goes through whole spiel of how to find us, what to wear, how he can pay, what time to turn up, approximate time we would finish) “Don’t forget to bring both parts of your driving licence with you”

16 year old: “I need a driving licence??”

Me: “-”

(This has happened on more than one occasion!)

Might End Up With Another Drive To The Hospital

, , , , | Learning | October 18, 2018

(In Massachusetts, if you are under 18 and want to get your license, you are legally required to take a driver’s education course that includes both classroom instruction and driving with an instructor in the car. My experience with the classroom instruction portion is pretty normal, and my instructor is very professional…. until I get behind the wheel with her. As I’m driving, she receives a phone call. Suddenly, she is having a loud, animated discussion in a foreign language on her cell phone. She periodically pulls away to give me directions, but then continues on her rant. Luckily, I’ve driven with my parents prior to this, so it’s not my first time on the road, but it’s still unsettling. After several minutes, the instructor finally hangs up her cell phone. She turns to me and says:)

Instructor: “I’m sorry, but I need to cut your lesson short today. I will give you priority on rescheduling and a discount, honey. We need to get back to the driving school; my idiot sister is in the hospital.”

Me: “Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I totally understand. Is she okay?”

Instructor: “She’s a moron! She told me she sprayed perfume in her vagina because it smelled bad, and now she has a very serious infection!”

(I slam on the brakes. The instructor looks at me with a surprised expression.)

Instructor: “Why did you do that? You’ve been doing perfect this whole time!”

(I take a breath.)

Me: “I’m sorry. It’s just that I feel like that’s a really personal issue. I’m only 16 and don’t have too much driving experience, and you being on the phone, and then sharing that detail with me is very inappropriate.”

Instructor: “Geez, you’re the one who asked if she was okay.”

(I asked for a different instructor to do the rest of my driving hours.)

 

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STOP! And Get Out

, , , , , | Learning | October 15, 2018

(I’ve just finished a driving lesson. The instructor has me drive the car to where we’ll pick up another student, and then he’ll drive me home, a short distance away. I’m in the back seat, while the instructor is in the front passenger seat, which has another set of pedals.)

Instructor: “Remember: before crossing another street, slow the car, and look to see if any others are coming. If there’s a STOP sign, stop the car entirely. Understood?”

Student: “Yes, of course.”

(He starts driving. At some point we’re about to cross a semi-big street, with a STOP sign facing us, but the car shows no signs of slowing. Just when I think the other student is going to cross without looking, the car suddenly stops. At first I think the other student has remembered to stop a bit late, but then I look at him. He glances around us for a few moments, then down at his pedals, then at the instructor, looking entirely confused.)

Student: “What just happened?”

(The instructor had used his own brake to stop the car. I walked the rest of the way.)

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Two Rights Can Right A Wrong

, , , , , | Learning | October 10, 2018

(I am taking driving lessons so I can obtain my commercial vehicle license. The practical lessons take place in a real semi-trailer truck, with me in the driver’s seat, my instructor in the passenger’s seat, and another student sitting on one of the beds in the sleeper cab.)

Instructor: “Okay, [My Name], make a right turn.”

(I get nervous, and end up missing the opportunity to turn. With no other choice, I continue driving straight.)

Instructor: “Okay, [Classmate], close the curtains and go hide in a corner.”

Classmate: “What? Why?”

Instructor: “[My Name] just missed his turn. Now we’re in [Different City]. Sitting in the sleeper cab was perfectly legal when we were still in [Previous City], but not here. If the police see you back there, [My Name] could get a ticket.”

Classmate: “Okay, I’ll go hide myself.”

Instructor: “All right, [My Name], we’re going to make two right turns now.”

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Totally Driving This Conversation

, , , , , | Learning | October 5, 2018

(It’s my second driving lesson, and I have a different instructor this time: a woman in her forties who seems very nice and motherly. At the start of the lesson, I’m rather happy and smiling because I’ve finally gotten some feeling for the gear shift. This happens after we’ve been driving around for maybe fifteen minutes, all the while making small-talk. This is a bit stressful for me, since it’s rather distracting, but I figure she knows better than I do.)

Instructor: “Yes, I like driving around with you young folk; I always meet new people with new perspectives. It’s really refreshing.”

Me: *trying not to be too distracted* “That sounds nice.”

Instructor: “You know, people tell me all sorts of things.”

(She waits for an answer, but I’m too busy entering a roundabout.)

Instructor: “Especially the girls. I like having a girl-to-girl talk, you know? Most girls know they can trust me, and we get along immediately.”

Me: “Oh, yes?”

Instructor: “Yeah, just like with you. Most girls tell me all about their problems. You know, if you have any problems, you can talk to me.”

(I break for a jaywalker, HARD, and the car dies, but she doesn’t react at all.)

Instructor: “You can tell me anything you like. A few girls told me about how they were abused at home or by friends.”

Me: “Oh, wow.”

Instructor: “You can tell me if you were abused, okay? If there is anyone doing things to you you don’t like, you can tell me. Did something happen to you?”

Me: “No.”

Instructor: “Well, if you want to talk about it, you can always come to me.”

(The rest of the lesson went in a similar vein. At the end, I was barely holding it together from the stress of driving for the second time ever, looking out for people crossing the street, and trying to hold up this uncomfortable conversation, and I felt worse than after the first lesson. I don’t think she was trying to be as creepy as she was, implying and probing about bad things happening to me, and she didn’t do it during later lessons, but I never felt at ease around her.)

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