This has to be one of the most exciting test I’ve ever encountered in my life. It was short beyond measure, commonly indicative of a failure, fraught with fright, and God must have simply intervened.
Basically, I’ve just completed the circuit with no issues and am on the public road. At this T-junction without traffic lights, I was to turn right into a smaller road. The coast, with slight visual obstruction (due to cars turning to their right in-front of me), was clear. I looked right to check for pedestrians, while preparing to move off. The car was about to inch forward when I looked forward and saw a lorry dashing towards the junction.
“Oooh,” I exclaimed, while I instinctively stomped on the brakes hard. From the corner of my eye, I saw the examiner’s hand moved towards the handbrake column – I was faster. He made no remark, neither did I.
I completed the turn and he told me to turn right, and then back into the driving centre, which is on the left. This was immediately disappointing as I’ve only just completed 3 right turns on the road without any U-turns. Most routes have at least a U-turn, I recalled. It must have been over, I thought to myself.
He motioned for me to park at the shade in-front of the centre; I was the second car to arrive. The first being called for the test a full 5 minutes before me. I was after all, one of the last few to start the test. It was certainly a foreboding sight.
Silently, we moved to the desk and I sat there awaiting my results. I had expected the worst. I mean, what more can go wrong? Ending the test way earlier than others, dead silence, and one huge mistake which I’m almost sure was an immediate failure.
He came with a slip of paper in his hands, the revelation on the price which I was to pay – S$200 (re-test) or S$50 (driving license application fee).
His words were sharp, “check your mirrors more.”
He moved the paper towards me. I strained to read the tiny words and what they had all meant. He pulled back and flipped over.
“You’ve passed… congratulations and please proceed to watch the safety video”.
With that, I mumbled many thank yous and promptly left the room. Was I dreaming? I dropped my mother a quick phone call, and realised that she couldn’t read my mind (and thus it isn’t a dream). I scanned the mistakes list and didn’t see what I thought I’ll see.