Mad, Mad, Mad
I went to take the road test for my CDL (commercial drivers license) today so I can drive our new church bus. I drove about 45 minutes to a DMV on the southside of Richmond. When I arrived I was greeted by a pleasant woman I'll call Sally. She was very nice and kind with a sweet demeanor. She showed me where to take the bus to begin the test. As I was pulling the bus around the building I was feeling quite optimistic about my test. Before you're allowed to drive the bus on the road, you must first pass the pre-trip inspection in which you walk around and through the bus pointing out certain parts and explaining what you would be checking them for. If you pass that part you continue to the road test.
As I made my way around the bus my optimism continued. I was remembering everything I hoped to remember. I was even pointing out things that weren't covered in the manual - things like making sure my license plate had current tags, etc. As we made our way inside the bus optimism was oozing from my ears. I explained how I would check to make sure all the seats were in good condition with no tears in the fabric or loose bolts. I pointed out all the emergency exits; I checked my mirrors, honked my horn, explained each of the guages and instruments. I tested my brakes, checked my mirrors again, fastened my seat belt and said I was ready to go.
Sally politely smiled and said, "I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but you've failed the pre-trip inspection. This ends your testing time."
For a moment I thought maybe she was joking, but then I realized the DMV doesn't hire people with a sense of humor. She said, "You didn't adequately explain what problems you were looking for with each part you pointed out. Come on in and I'll give you some pointers for next time."
As she exited the bus my optimism exited my body. Frustrated, I followed her inside, back to the land of blank stares, low-talking service agents, and the sad, chilling silence that is the DMV. She pulled a piece of paper out with a diagram of a bus on it and a description beside the bus of everything that must be pointed out. As she was walking me through each item I went from frustrated to MAD!
Apparently I failed the test because for most of the parts I pointed to on the bus I said I was checking to make sure they were secure. She said I used that word too much and I needed to be more specific.
"For instance," she said, "when you're checking the drive shaft, you need to make sure it's not cracked. And when you're checking your mirrors you need to look for cracks. When you're checking your suspension and springs, you need to make sure that those aren't cracked. When you check your belts and hoses, you need to say specifically that you're looking for cracks. And when you check your tires, you need to point out that you're looking for cracks."
What I learned is that had I used the word "crack" a lot, I would have passed. I really shouldn't be as concerned with whether something is securely fastened to the bus as I should be concerned with cracks.
If you're planning on taking your CDL test anytime soon, learn to say the word "crack" a lot. You'll do fine.
As I made my way around the bus my optimism continued. I was remembering everything I hoped to remember. I was even pointing out things that weren't covered in the manual - things like making sure my license plate had current tags, etc. As we made our way inside the bus optimism was oozing from my ears. I explained how I would check to make sure all the seats were in good condition with no tears in the fabric or loose bolts. I pointed out all the emergency exits; I checked my mirrors, honked my horn, explained each of the guages and instruments. I tested my brakes, checked my mirrors again, fastened my seat belt and said I was ready to go.
Sally politely smiled and said, "I'm sorry Mr. Jones, but you've failed the pre-trip inspection. This ends your testing time."
For a moment I thought maybe she was joking, but then I realized the DMV doesn't hire people with a sense of humor. She said, "You didn't adequately explain what problems you were looking for with each part you pointed out. Come on in and I'll give you some pointers for next time."
As she exited the bus my optimism exited my body. Frustrated, I followed her inside, back to the land of blank stares, low-talking service agents, and the sad, chilling silence that is the DMV. She pulled a piece of paper out with a diagram of a bus on it and a description beside the bus of everything that must be pointed out. As she was walking me through each item I went from frustrated to MAD!
Apparently I failed the test because for most of the parts I pointed to on the bus I said I was checking to make sure they were secure. She said I used that word too much and I needed to be more specific.
"For instance," she said, "when you're checking the drive shaft, you need to make sure it's not cracked. And when you're checking your mirrors you need to look for cracks. When you're checking your suspension and springs, you need to make sure that those aren't cracked. When you check your belts and hoses, you need to say specifically that you're looking for cracks. And when you check your tires, you need to point out that you're looking for cracks."
What I learned is that had I used the word "crack" a lot, I would have passed. I really shouldn't be as concerned with whether something is securely fastened to the bus as I should be concerned with cracks.
If you're planning on taking your CDL test anytime soon, learn to say the word "crack" a lot. You'll do fine.
posted by CoryJones at 11:03 AM
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