Bad Driver

Yesterday I caused a bit of a kerfuffle when I drove down a one way street the wrong way and into the path of a bus. I’m pretty good at making a spectacle of myself and true to form it was a cracker of an exhibition.

The bus driver stuck his head out the window and yelled a barrage of abuse, mainly in reference to my gender and the car I was driving – a big black 4WD that even I would tease someone if I saw them driving.

I have a somewhat coloured driving history and before we left Australia we worked out that I’d have to be a member of our current insurance company for twenty-three years for them to recoup their losses derived from my ‘mishaps’. I think I have terrible luck when it comes to cars, Rob just thinks I’m a shit driver.

We are also very hard on our car. With four kids, we gave up the notion of having a clean and undamaged car years ago and our previous one, an old Volvo, was so trashed that you’d feel sorry for anyone who stole it. It was missing most of the front bumper bar which fell off when I hit an industrial bin at my kids’ school, and which until recently lived in the basement with the side view mirror and other bits of car that have fallen off over the years due to the problem we have in London with walls and poles getting in my way.

Not that it’s a problem anymore though because in June I hit a motorcyclist and we had to get rid of it.

Volvo’s claim to be the sturdiest car in the world probably didn’t take my driving into consideration

Now I know I have issues with shopping and a particular softness for handbags, but Rob has control issues when it comes to purchasing large items. Like cars. After the Volvo died, he bought a really nice black 4WD that has excellent cup holders and somehow justified his purchase by comparing it to the cost of cars in Australia. He convinced himself that we were really saving ourselves money because we’d just keep the car, take it back to Sydney some day and ‘run it into the ground’ … which with my driving probably equates to around 5 years. Less if we live in an area populated with motorcyclists.

When our pretty new shiny car arrived, I took one look at the giant super low profile wheels it had and just knew it was probably the last day in those wheels’ lives they’d be looking so shiny. I’m getting better at not hitting motorcycles but when it comes to parking the car without hitting the kerb, and especially on those spiral carpark ramps, it’s just never going to end well. I don’t know what Rob was thinking.

I think perhaps there’s something wrong with my spacial ability because I also have trouble fitting the car through those bollards they put on roads to stop heavy vehicles going through them. In fact I’m soon to find out whether Rob actually reads my blog or not because I hit one the other day and it made a bit of a crunching sound down the side of the car but I’m not brave enough to look what damage I’ve caused.

So I’ve been driving for over twenty years and am still having the same bingles I did when I started. It’s unlikely to ever change, and my eyesight hasn’t failed yet so there’s always room for things to deteriorate. With me on the road, I do apologise for any increase in your car insurance premium because I am likely to have played a role in that.

How are your driving skills? Is it my gender that’s the problem?