If it was possible to die from boredom, this week I’d have been one of the innocent victims of a massacre.
OK, OK, I suppose we weren’t entirely innocent.
We’d all done between 35 and 39mph in a 30 zone or 46-50 in a 40 zone, which is why we were on the Speed Awareness Course in the first place.
It was run by two incredibly earnest blokes – think Smashey and Nicey with well-thumbed copies of The Highway Code in the top pockets of their short-sleeved shirts – and the worst thing was they really were trying to make it interesting. Bless them.
You see it turns out that like every other sector, punishment has recently suffered devastating cuts.
Friends who’d done the course before told me most of it was spent behind the wheel, attempting challenges that not only taught you loads but were also properly fun.
They made it sound like The Krypton Factor with free tea and coffee.
Some were considering breaking the speed limit again on purpose because they were dying for another go.
If any of them are reading, DON’T DO IT!
The budget has been slashed, the practical bit has gone, it’s just theory now, and loads of it.
In other words, it’s a driving course that doesn’t feature any driving.
Instead it consists of two men taking it in turns, like a tag-team of tedium, to say “don’t drive so fast” in as many different ways as possible. With PowerPoint. For four hours.
You can’t just sit at the back and snooze either. To pass go and not collect three points on your driving licence you have to “actively participate”.
There’s a worksheet to fill in as you go along.
Some may say it’s completely pointless, because they don’t collect it at the end, you just chuck it in the bin handily located outside the exit... some, but not me of course (just in case they can fail you in retrospect.)
(Don’t) Smashey and (Drive) Nicey were happy to allow us brief breaks from the spirit-crushing monotony, as long as we stayed within acceptable PC guidelines.
“If you were queuing in a shop, you wouldn’t just barge in front of someone else, so why do some people do it just because they’re in their cars?” Smashey wondered, presumably rhetorically.
“Because they’re a***holes?” piped up someone on the other side of the room. We all burst into relieved laughter.
It had been so long since I’d smiled I think I pulled a muscle in my face.
“Yes, ha ha ha,” said Nicey, “That’s a good one – but careful with the language, eh mate, because you could easily offend someone with words like that.”
And then he quickly returned to reminding us that only a fool breaks the two second rule.
My Speed Awareness Hell took place in a hotel just off a motorway.
Four and a half minutes after the course ended, I was on the M1.
Five minutes after the course ended, I accidentally glanced at the speedometer.
I was observing the speed limit perfectly. The speed limit is 90, right?
I’m joking of course (just in case they can fail you in retrospect.)