Tommy Gavin
UT Magazine Editor
I recently sat my driving test for the fourth time, and failed for the fourth time. In competition with my friend, who then seemed like the world’s most hilarious failure for having failed three times and only got it on the fourth, it was a particularly bitter sting. He had a tendency to get flustered and compromise himself, over the history of our competitions, while I, supremely confident in my ability, would venture forward cocksure and cavalier, only to fail as miserably as he, and in this and many other cases, worse. This time though, the lesson isn’t that preparation trumps both hesitation and self-assurance, or that my friend is a better driver than I am (he’s not), but that you can’t trust the Road Safety Authority (RSA). I came close the first time, I was nervous and slightly unprepared, so I wasn’t overly surprised when I learned that I had picked up a grade three which means an automatic fail as well as the necessary number of grade twos to have failed, had I not got the grade three. I had good fundamentals but work was needed. It was a fair fail. The second fail was also fair. It was snowing, and by the end the examiner who began the drive quite jolly, discomposedly seemed to legitimately consider me a danger to the road, after I picked up something like three or four automatic fails. What can I say, I was rusty. I don’t think I was a danger to anybody but I certainly had no right to hold a licence.
It was the third test that griped me. After a leisurely cruise around Churchtown, the majority of which was spent in traffic which is a special treat during a driving test, I was exasperated to learn that I could not sufficiently turn left to the standards of the almighty Road Safety Authority. Everything else on my little test sheet was perfect, but for the turns. If anything, I was reassured that I really was a good driver, because I now had an indication there were no problems except for my supposed inability to turn. Yet I swallowed my pride and applied one more time, now having to at best draw with my friend. The fourth examiner seemed disappointed at how slow and boring the test was going, but I had no intention of indulging him any kerrraazy turns or high speed swerving. Still though, he got me on a tedious technicality for having stopped at a red light after turning. I’ll admit it was wrong, but it did not warrant a fail, as my new and improved fail test sheet actually proves I’m a great driver for all the marks I didn’t get. This brings me to my point, what do we actually know about the Road Safety Authority?, aka the 1%. Each time they fail me, I have to cough up a new application fee, so is it any wonder I keep failing? If I got paid to fail rubes, I’d do it all day long. We need to seriously reconsider how we let these people get away with this for so long. I can see them now, lording it over us in the billiards rooms of the RSA mansion, sipping cognac, while the tastefully decorated walls rebound their derisive and mocking laughter. So what are you going to do about it? #OccupyRSAmansion
