Why Women Have Cheaper Motor Insurance
According to men, most road accidents are caused by women.
What they fail to add is that this has little to do with poor driving skills. It is mostly attributed to the fact that men take their eyes off the road each time they pass a female rating above 2 on a scale of one to ten. So yes, women do cause some accidents. Indirectly.
However, official statistics show that most major accidents are caused by men.
“It’s unnecessary to use indicators all the time”, advised my partner with a smug expression on his face. “You can tell which way a vehicle is going by the direction in which it is pointing.”
This comment was made shortly before another, non-indicating motor almost ploughed into the right wing of his car after my beloved assumed that the “offending” motorist was going straight on because he wasn’t indicating right. Naturally, he implied that the other motorist, who oddly enough just happened to be male, was at fault, since if he had been indicating right, then my other hypocritical half would not have pulled out.
The rules change, of course, according to the situation.
However, my adored has previously re-arranged several company vehicles into a more compacted shape, whilst I have never had an accident. But, of course, this has nothing to do with technique or skill. He maintains that this is because, statistically, he is more likely to have an accident because he drives several thousand more miles a year than I do.
A few years ago, he was awarded the “Best Accident of the Month” honour at the previous company with whom he was employed, an accolade about which he still boasts.
But, naturally, the accident wasn’t his fault.
When men do commit a motoring offence, there’s always someone else or some other inanimate object to blame.
Take my partner, once again, as an example. The last time the police caught him for speeding, he blamed his two young sons, who were sparring in the back of the car at the time. He claimed that had they not been arguing and had his eyes been on the road instead of glaring at them, he would have seen the mandatory speed limit sign.
Now if a car were speeding towards me and I could see the back of the driver’s head instead of his face, I would find that slightly unnerving and would seriously consider taking hasty refuge behind the nearest hedge.
Not surprisingly, therefore, when my partner returns home from work each night, I expect to see a fascinating assortment of people and domestic animals attached to his bumper.
Now, when a woman commits an offence, at least she’s honest.
“I’m sorry officer, I know I was travelling at 80mph in a 40mph zone, but I was late for an appointment and, yes, I was on the wrong side of the road because I had to adjust the rear view mirror with one hand whilst I applied my lipstick with the other.”
Far be it for me to even offer helpful suggestions whilst my partner is apparently in control of the car. If I even dare to say something like, “Watch out!” or “Aren’t you following a bit too closely behind?”, the response is a curt, “Who’s driving? You or me?” or, “Just leave the driving to the driver please!”
A couple of weekends ago, we were cruising leisurely at a steady speed of 70mph, around the Lake District in the North of England. As I was pressing my right foot onto the imaginary brake pedal in the passenger foot well and extracting pieces of seat from beneath my fingernails, I politely informed my significant other that he was about to drive through a red traffic light.
After I’d removed my forehead from the dashboard, my bemused sidekick grunted, “Must be something up with the lights. The amber wasn’t flashing before it turned red.” Now then, if you are familiar with the British traffic light system, you will know that the amber is static before it turns red. It only flashes on pedestrian crossings before it turns green. However, when I reliably informed Mr Highway Code of this fact, his reply was, “Are you sure?”
I don’t know what it is, but even the most placid and gentle man undergoes a strange metamorphosis once behind the wheel of a car. The sight of a steering wheel together with the sound of a revving engine has the same effect as an overdose of anabolic steroids.
My partner has invented a whole new abusive vocabulary for all the idiots he has the privilege of sharing the road with en route to a destination. He defines an idiot as any motorist who happens to travelling at the same time on the same roads.
Most of the choice names he spits at other male motorists are far too rude to print here, suffice to say that he generally joins two or more expletives together, adding an extra “y” here and there for effect, to form an insulting nom de plume, such as Twattybollocks, for example. All female motorists are referred to as “Dozy Mares”.
An example of a manoeuvre that would deserving of such wrath, would be another road user driving through a sleepy village in a 30 mile an hour zone at 30 miles per hour, when my partner wishes to travel at 40 miles per hour. Or when the vehicle in front fails to move off from a junction like a rocket from a launch pad, when my beloved wishes to attempt nought to sixty in 0.1 seconds.
The hand signals he uses only necessitate the use of one finger, but are generally understood by most other motorists who are on the receiving end of such charm.
According to data collected by insurance companies over the years, women are statistically safer drivers than men and this is why women can obtain cheaper car insurance.
Of course, men would argue differently. They would say, like my partner, that because men drive longer distances and have higher mileages, it is obvious that they are exposing themselves to the risks of more accidents. However, another predisposing factor in serious accidents is that men also drive faster and more dangerously than women, borne out by the fact that 98 per cent of convicted dangerous drivers are men.
Women may apply their makeup whilst driving, but what the statistics fail to mention is how many motor accidents are caused by men picking their noses or rubbing their nether regions, map reading, talking on their mobile phones, shaving, drinking, eating their lunch or gazing at a shapely, feminine arse, all whilst the vehicle is in motion.
When I asked my partner what his real views were on women drivers he said, “Well, you drive me crazy and my ex-wife drove me to despair….”