Driving in France - Part VII

My lessons with Boo Boo went on and on, as did my studying for the code. I bought the special DVD study aid and went through it ad nausea testing my husband to see if he was “impractical“ enough. He always failed it which made me feel better. At one point, Boo Boo’s fiancé said to me, “You know, you have to take the code at some point. How about in two weeks?”

“What? I don’t know if I’m ready!,” I somehow forgot the point to all this awful studying in a dark cold room would one day lead to the exam.

“You’ll be fine. I’m signing you up,” she said.

The week before the exam, my only focus was to memorize all the rules of the code. I had a stack of index cards with all the important details, parking laws, drinking laws, and even the speeds you could and could not go depending on the situation, one being special speeds for “new drivers.” Yes, you read right. There are different speeds for newbie’s.

Most of you probably read the “The Scarlet Letter” at some point in your lives. Well, when you are a new driver, you receive a scarlet letter “A” that must be put on the back of your car so the police know you have been driving for less than two years. Everyone else in the world knows too. Nothing discrete about it but us newly anointed drivers certainly are more than proud to have proof we made it out of driving school successfully. Believe it or not, when you do have your driving license, it’s something you put on your resumé. It has that much merit. “Wow, Didier, lookie here, she has her driving license, now this is a great candidate for the job! I mean, if she did that, she is up for any task!”

Finally, the day of the exam arrived. Four of us piled into Boo Boo’s car and headed to a community center in the middle of nowhere. We were each given a little remote control with A,B,C,D buttons on it. We took our seats. The lights went out and the video began. We had to choose quickly before the next question came up. My hands were shaking. I wanted to pass the test more than anything in the world. The rate of success is something like 30%.

It is very common to take the exam several times. You could only miss three questions out of 40. The exam ended and we had to turn in our remote controls and then go back to our seats.

After 15 minutes, the man in charge had the results in his little machine.
He called our names followed by “bon” (good) or “trop de fautes” (too many mistakes).
He said this out loud so everyone could hear. People would cheer and pump their fist in the air triumphantly if they heard the word “bon” when their names were called. Or, sadly, they would creep out of the room ashamed or even cry when they heard “trop de fautes.”

He called my name. The pause between my results and he calling my name felt like an eternity. I prayed one last time with all my might and held my breath. “Bon” he said without looking up and he handed me a paper that said I passed the code! As I left the room, Boo Boo’s fiancé was in the hall anxiously awaiting the results from her little ducklings. “So? So?,“ she asked me.

“Bon!,“ I screamed. She slapped me five and then still elated, I looked to my unfortunate colleagues whose faces were as long as the night. We got back in the car, it was hard to be happy when half of us were so depressed. All I knew was this part was over! Next, I’d have to take the driving exam.