Driving Instructor on the Edge

Salisbury Journal: Driving Instructor on the Edge Driving Instructor on the Edge

Many moons ago an unnamed man, let's call him Stephen Turvil, was anxiously awaiting his first driving lesson. The big moment finally arrived and Mr Instructor pulled-up in a beige Austin Metro. What a magnificent car – sixty quids worth of British finery.

Mr Instructor was a retired soldier, fifty years old, and considerably overweight. His tone was sometimes friendly, but he was generally more abrupt than a World War 2 air-raid siren. Despite this inconsistency the early lessons were enjoyable. The lad learned quickly and the Metro kept both its door mirrors.

After a few weeks it was time to master night driving. Mr Instructor was particularly moody that evening after missing out on his herbal tea. He spent the lesson repeatedly reaching over to flash the lights at various motorists. He perceived their offences to include owning a vehicle, listening to the radio, and breathing too loudly. Mr Instructor also proved himself adept at name calling and arm gestures.

So, let's learn from Stephen's experience. Never drive with someone who hasn't had their herbal tea.

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