Man, what a day! I swear, being a car instructor in Grangemouth is like riding a rollercoaster blindfolded. You think you know what’s coming, but nah, it’s all twists and turns. So, let me spill the tea on this wild ride.
First off, I roll into the car park on Kerse Road, right? It’s a bit drizzly, typical Scottish weather, but I’m pumped. Got my coffee in hand, ready to tackle the day. My first student, bless her heart, is a nervous wreck. I mean, she’s shaking like a leaf! We hop in the car, and I’m like, “Chill, mate! It’s just a car, not a rocket ship!” But she’s not having it.
We start cruising down the High Street, and she’s gripping the wheel like it’s a lifeline. I’m trying to keep it light, cracking jokes about how we’re not auditioning for Fast and Furious. But then, outta nowhere, this pigeon decides to play chicken with us. I swear, it flew right in front of the car! I nearly lost it. “Dodge the bird, not the test!” I yell. She slams the brakes, and we’re just sitting there, heart racing. Pigeon’s fine, by the way. Just strutted off like it owned the place.
After that, we hit the roundabout at the bottom of the town. You know the one, right? The one that’s always a mess? Cars everywhere, people honking like it’s a concert. I’m trying to teach her how to merge, and she’s like, “What do I do?!” I’m like, “Just go! It’s not a dance-off!” But she hesitates, and we end up stuck behind this ancient bus. I swear, it was older than my gran.
Finally, we get past that chaos, and I’m feeling good. We swing by the Grangemouth Stadium, and I’m like, “Look at that! Home of the best rugby!” She’s still panicking, but I’m trying to get her to focus on the positives. “Rugby players don’t panic, right?” I say. She laughs, finally loosening up a bit.
Then, we head down to the docks. Man, the smell of the sea hits you like a brick wall. It’s a mix of fish and something else I can’t quite place. I’m like, “Welcome to Grangemouth, where the air is fresh… kinda.” We pull over, and I’m trying to explain the importance of checking mirrors. But she’s too busy staring at the ships. “Look at that one! It’s massive!”
I’m thinking, “Yeah, but you gotta focus on the road!” But hey, I get it. The docks are cool. I mean, who doesn’t love a good ship?
After a few more rounds of driving, we finally hit the home stretch. I’m feeling proud, like a dad watching his kid score a goal. But then, we get stuck at a red light on the corner of La Porte Precinct. And wouldn’t you know it, the car next to us is blasting some awful pop song. I’m talking ear-splitting levels of cringe. I’m trying to keep my cool, but I can’t help but roll my eyes. “Is this a driving lesson or a karaoke night?” I joke. She giggles, and I’m like, “See? You’re getting the hang of it!”
But then, just as we’re about to turn left onto the main road, this guy on a bike zooms past us, nearly taking out my side mirror. I’m like, “What the actual heck?!” I’m yelling, “You got a death wish, mate?” My student’s eyes are wide, and I’m trying to calm her down. “Don’t worry, we’re not gonna die today!”
Finally, we make it back to the car park, and I’m exhausted. I’m talking like I just ran a marathon. She’s smiling, though, and I’m like, “You did it! You survived Grangemouth traffic!”
As she hops out, I can’t help but feel a bit emotional. It’s days like this that remind me why I love this job. Sure, it’s chaotic, and sometimes I wanna pull my hair out, but seeing someone grow and gain confidence? That’s the real win.
So, yeah, Grangemouth, you’ve got your quirks. The streets, the people, the pigeons. But at the end of the day, it’s home. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.