In Car Etiquette
Ian Eveleigh tackles that delicate problem of telling your partner that they're a crap driver
I suppose that after six years with Miss Right it was long overdue for me to say those special words: "OK then, you drive!"
Despite adopting my usual let's-not-scare-the-crap-out-of-the-passenger driving style that I believe a loaded co-driver's seat demands, the usual mutual respect for each other's ability to always get us there in one piece seemed strangely absent on that day. The opening miles of a two-hour drive having already drawn complaints regarding straight-line speed, cornering technique and road position.
Personally, I was convinced that the problem was more one of my passenger being too long away from a motorcycle seat and having had her perception of speed distorted by too many years in fun but, frankly, slow cars. Plus – and this was probably the deciding factor – my chosen suspension does not exactly aid the reading of a magazine. It was a theory that was proven to be correct just minutes later when, now sat in the driver's seat, she had acclimatised to the modest performance available and we found ourselves motoring along at exactly the same pace as before, with the speedometer pointing at digits which would probably be replaced with a zone marked "Making Good Progress" in the new Rolls.
Coupling
The clichéd vision of couples in cars may be one of upside-down maps, strained vocal chords, and nails embedded in door trim, but at least it's considered acceptable in those circumstances to try to save yourself from the clueless actions of the mad(wo)man at the wheel. With anyone else driving, be it friend, relative, colleague or taxi driver, such potentially life-saving criticism is somehow just not allowed.
How often have you found yourself in the passenger seat desperately wanting to say something but not quite knowing the polite way to phrase the question "Are you trying to f*****g kill us both or what? "
For me, wet dual carriageways always trigger flashbacks of cresting a hill on the A1 one winter's night in a cold, damp and brakeless Talbot Horizon travelling at the wrong side of 80mph. Confronted with two half-mile-long lines of bright red, stationary taillights, it was quite obvious that it was time to start making use of what little braking abilities the tatty Talbot had. Obvious to everyone, that is, apart from the chap sat to my right who was steaming on oblivious. Despite getting closer and closer to that last possible moment you'd want to hit the anchors, I found the heart in my mouth preventing me from expressing my concern beyond a gaping jaw and eyeballs touching the windscreen.
I'd like to say that we were saved from a trip to hospital by the fantastic braking skills of an excellent driver who had merely momentarily lost his concentration, but in reality we slid – locked-up and slightly sideways – to a halt about half an inch short of the last rear bumper of the queue. We laughed it off at the time. And had nightmares about it later.
Short Trips
It doesn't necessarily take a long trip to have your nerve tested, though. A quick lift can be just as harrowing, if only because it gives a no-clue chauffeur a shorter time to impress his petrol-head mate with "what she can do".
This was an outlook clearly adopted by a former boss of mine who once helpfully offered to give a colleague and myself a lift to a pub we were heading to in the rental Mondeo he'd just had delivered. Two miles later, and a drink seemed like more of a necessity than a desire, so it was a shame that much of that first pint was lost upon raising it from the bar due to involuntary shaking. That five minute ride did more to reaffirm the safety advantages of seatbelts than a lifetime of shock-tactic public information films.
There are golden rules to the rental car experience, of course. The main ones being offering to book the car, collect the car, sign for the car, and – most importantly – act as custodian of the keys for the car. P J O'Rourke may be correct in his assertion that the best performing car in the world is a rental car, but he forgot to mention that the scariest car in the world is a rental car driven by someone else.
No Better
But you can't always avoid the passenger seat. Like it or not, sooner or later you'll have to relinquish control to someone else. The trouble with someone else, though, is that they can never drive as well as you can.
So if things start to get a bit hairy, just take some deep breaths, bite your tongue, and maybe consider praying. But above all else remember that there's a tried and tested reason why in-car etiquette demands that your driver's abilities should never, ever be criticised: no matter how rough the ride, it sure as hell beats walking.
Finally the other day I did it: "You drive then! Oh you can't? Well you'll have to put up with it! When you pass you can drive everywhere."
The way I see it, my car. My rules. Don't like it? Walk. Harsh but fair.
Somebody I know gets a huge amount of grief for driving "too fast" etc from his other half. This would be fairly acceptable, except that when she's at the wheel she's Mrs Roadrage personified: speeding, tailgating, yelling at other drivers etc. I think it must be in the genes, but its just a tad hypocritical and that's what would wind me up. Luckily he's so laid back as to be almost horizontal.
she was in a rush to get home and watch 'Judge John Deed' and I'd made the mistake of getting a lift home from work. Oh my god.
The less likely someone is to drive quickly, the more harrowing the experience is when the actually give it a shot.
I finally realised it had been a bad idea when I found myself trying to get out as he accelerated through the ton as we approached a set of red lights guarding a roundabout.
His comment following the 5 minute experience? "I'd like to drive it for a couple of hours , get my confidence up and then *really* have a go" Not with me in the car he wont!
The scene for the above was the Nordschliefe at the Nurburgring, in a 1.8 Ford Mondeo, four up with a roofbox. Very funny indeed
Yugguy said:
One thing's tru tho, you get annoyed with passangers sometimes, but you only get a true idea of how fast your car is when you are in the passanger seat and have no control whatsoever.
Which proves that to feel safe you have to be in control of the driving experience. If the Government get their way and force all kinds of intrusive 'aids' such as GPS-based speed limiters, distance sensors, etc onto us then everyone will be too scared to drive anywhere.
Aha ! Maybe I've stumbled onto the lentilists' secret plan.
me, brake, brake BRAKE! 
Rivergirrl "I'd forgotten how fast they feel when you're the passenger not the driver"
Rude Girl "Well done!" as I made it round a tight turn (driving her car!!) having initially forgotten to adjust for the no power steering
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