Funnily enough there are often other French Drivers at "Tragic School", as they call it. They commiserate with one another and go in search of lunch together, as the classes are often held in out of the way places.
I always sign him up for the Saturday, 8-hour, comedic class. I am told they are sometimes asked to act out examples of how drivers get distracted. The class rises to the occasion, literally, shuffling around making "vroom-vroom" noises with imaginary steering wheel in one hand and finger (imaginary I hope) of other hand inserted in nose. Bad boys every one.
Now I do know that traffic school can be completed on-line. That remains my little secret. Sometimes it's worth the fine to have a whole Saturday to myself!
Oh, my, gawd! Laughing out loud (LOL)! That is a scream--you know that there are online classes and you've managed to keep it a secret from him all these years! Christ, his payment of fees alone could fix half of CA's debt.
ReplyDeleteI do sooooo love that photo! I have it tucked away in iPhoto somewhere.
Super post! And I did guffaw, indeed! I needed that. T'anks!
Hi Co-Conspiritor,
ReplyDeleteWait 'til I have time to get into details. Did you know how little leg-room there is in the back of those black and white cars, and where are the door handles?
Whenever I hear sirens I wonder where my husband is.
Uh, I think the point of traffic school is to learn something so you don't go back?????? *lol*
ReplyDeleteJust don't let him out on the road for too long in that loader. If he gets too distracted by the contemplation of painting the scenery, he might mow down a bridge or something. *G*
Hi Jean,
ReplyDeleteThat thought process would require recognition of some kind of fault. Not happening!