MERDE-blimming-KARRRRR!

State of mind: jawdrop-level shock
Current soundtrack: The white noise of the room fan

Today was my fifth—FIFTH!—attempt at gaining a probationary driver's license. (Shoddy steering, shoddy steering, a big ninja bus and a sputtery engine foiled the first four attempts, if you choose to recall.) I had a pen. I had my blazing red preppie shirt. I had a stable stomach. I even had a bottle of blessed water that one of my mom's colleagues gave her several months back (To drink beforehand, not to throw at crotchety examiners). Got to SDC, paid some outstanding bills and went to get my number. If you pass your parking, but fail your road test, you get a J number, for jalan. That gets you a little priority in the lining-up-for-numbers and test times, supposedly. SUPPOSEDLY.

8.30 - Receive number. Go sit down at porch.
9.00 - Waiting. Listening to very non-J numbers being called out.
10.00 - Waiting waitishly. 11J is called. 10J is still languishing in some limbo. Candidate 123 is called again. Optimum test times start now (because everyone's in the office, and nobody's starting off for lunch...)
11.00 - Waiting waitishly with waitingness. 11J actually goes for her exam. Still more non-J numbers. Candidate 123 is called for the fifth time, and still does not show up. More experienced J-number holders speculate on what grisly fate awaits him when he finally shows up. Optimum test times winding up. M.Y. prays desperately.
11.15 - Good news! Examiner finally shows up and starts looking for candidates. Bad news! Examiner is female. Worse news! It's probably the same examiner I almost helpfully ran into the ninja bus!

M.Y. drinks the blessed water and prays even HARDER.

11.30 - Test starts.

Let me tell you, Internets, I may not have been able to steer for nuts, but I can BALANCE a clutch like nobody's business. Funnily enough, I ended up with a very bad deal today, as the moment I eased on the clutch the car would hack and complain and generally threaten to die. Cheer up, emo Kancil. :\ I got about as far as the junction up and out of SDC before everything jammed, and the car died. Pull handbrake. Thump clutch. Start engine.

Going uphill past traffic light. Balancing begins. Car dies. Pull handbrake. Thump clutch. Start engine. Car dies again. Pull handbrake harder. Squash the clutch into the ground. Start engine.

Going downhill towards traffic light. Car dies. Pull handbrake. Thump clutch. Start engine.

Finally sputtering back to SDC. Car dies. Refrain from screaming aloud. Pull handbrake...

This, I must say, was one of the most nerve-wracking rounds round that part of town I'd ever had. It was OK to build speed after a while, but that blasted clutchery! *cry* It has been hammered multiple times into one's mind now that with the engine, it's three strikes and you're out. As we trundled back into SDC, I said in the teeniest voice imaginable "Thanks for letting me finish the route."

"...Here, just sign."

"HowmuchdidIgetthistime...*squeak*"

All at once my legs went weak and my throat went dry(er) and my eyes swam. Five times, and...



I'd finally passed, with a mark extra at that. (Instructor says the dyings may not have counted as the car didn't roll backwards or forwards.)

I'm still a little swimmy on this point, but I do remember marching triumphantly into the office and asking for a license application before going out for a celebratory meal at Swensen's. And now here I am at home, typing this post up and preparing to crosspost it, and scanning pictures of the actual marks sheet.

Thank you Mr Amini for your lessons; Mr. Nasir and Mr. Balan for their extra tips; and last but not least, a certain JPJ officer called Shida. May metta fall on you copiously from above! :DDDDD

Now to figure how the gears work in an auto...