sentienthing

Recently I went for the Driving Theory Test, an unforgettably dull and tedious experience for me. Rarely had I encountered such mental resistance in all my endeavors before as it was with learning how to differentiate between different signs and hazards. It wasn't so much that I found it hard to learn really though but, rather, that I found it hard to convince my brain that the knowledge was, in fact, worthwhile in acquiring. Incredibly, I actually passed the test in the end.

When I was then presented with my Certificate my toil and troubles were all unquestionably justified by a piece of everyday real and simple hilarity that would challenge any piece of contrived comic material that you can find. In a mundane world of traffic signs and signals; of formal computer exams seeking knowledge on tire thread lengths, and of the stinking multi-national Corporation that  runs it (there were ,maybe, 15 CCTV cameras in the small room where I was questioned...) there is a bit of humanity in the form of a funny coincidence. The Theory Test Manger for Ireland whose name is on all certificates is none other than, of course, F Skidmore. What can I say? Some men are obviously born to do certain things.