On the Signing of the Charter (Yes I Know it’s a Certificate, but Charter Sounds so much Grander, N’est Ce Pas?)

There is nothing in the world quite like it when that quiet, slightly lugubrious man sitting next to you suddenly cracks a gentle smile and signs the piece of paper that grants you freedom to go wherever you like on your own. No, dear, delicately nurtured Reader, don’t panic. I do not refer to the prison release form (though I believe that is also a euphoric moment, for reasons which should be self-evident!) but to the signing of the Practical Driving Test Certificate.  Or the Second Great Charter, as I like to call mine. The First Great Charter was, of course, the one signed at Runnymede by a certain John and a lot of nobles who were breathing down his neck. The Second Great Charter is going to be more of a success, having been signed by someone who actually wanted to sign it. At least I think he did. Hard to tell with driving examiners. (I should know – much as I hate to admit it, this was my third run-in with them. And the LAST. Thank goodness)
When he hands you that piece of paper and says ‘good luck’ you feel as if someone just handed you The world on a plate. You are not sure what to say, and what comes out in the end is almost certainly not what you meant to say, being more gibberish than anything else. Much as you would like to appear calm and collected, and would have preferred to rise to the occasion with your customary command of the English language, all you can do is grin like a lunatic and witter something barely intelligible. I was almost afraid he’d take the shiny blue form back after that. (‘Good heavens no, you’re not fit to drive on your own. Look at you, grinning like an idiot and barely able to string two words together’) but thankfully he just got out of my car (MY CAR) and left me to gibber ecstatically to myself.
So there you are. Milestone. After a long battle I finally did it. And boy, does it feel good.

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One thought on “On the Signing of the Charter (Yes I Know it’s a Certificate, but Charter Sounds so much Grander, N’est Ce Pas?)

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